


Sugar, Meet Spice

by LaLumiere



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Baking, Complete-ish, Dessert & Sweets, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Feels, Flirting, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, OC Is Nervous, Sexual Tension! Tom, Tom Has A Voracious Sweet Tooth, Tom Is A Sweetheart, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5316110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLumiere/pseuds/LaLumiere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lila started baking with her neighbor Diana three years ago as a Christmas tradition. </p>
<p>She was new to the area, had just lost her own mother, and the older woman took Lila under her wing. </p>
<p>Grateful for Diana’s friendship, Lila forges a close bond with her daughters but has yet to meet her son Tom. </p>
<p>This year, everyone’s in for a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate Chip Shortbread

**Author's Note:**

> Tis the season...  
> Just a little idea that popped into my head, now that Thanksgiving is over here in the States.  
> Let me know what you think! Hope you like, my sweet readers.
> 
> Love you all. Leave me messages!

“I remember when James found me, once, covered in flour with flecks of dough up to my elbows,” Diana laughed as she took in Lila’s appearance. The 30-year-old was blending a large bowl of shortbread batter by hand, spatula cutting forcefully through the buttery mixture. With auburn hair piled atop her head and jumper-sleeves rolled up her forearms, she was an elegant picture of chaos.

And there was a tiny nip of flour on her nose.

“He stood there and grinned at me mischievously for what seemed like an hour, watching as I made this exact recipe,” Diana continued. She began carefully measuring semi-sweet chocolate bits into a glass container as she reminisced. “I’m fairly sure Sarah was conceived not long after that, if I remember correctly…”

 _“Diana!”_ squealed Lila. “I don’t know you that well! I don’t need to hear that!”

Blushing, the young girl gave her spatula one more strong pass around the perimeter of the bowl, scraping all the decadent goodness from the rim. She could barely look at her smirking neighbour and instead distracted herself by pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose; they’d worked their way down from her forceful stirring moments ago.

“Such wonderful memories, being young and in love,” Diana intoned, a far-off look in her eyes. Smiling faintly still, she broke from her trance and brought over the small mountain of chocolate pieces, dumping them into Lila’s bowl.

“All right, Lila? Fold them in.”

Flexing her fingers around the spatula once more, Lila Roman began to swirl and twist the shortbread batter, forcing the chocolates to disperse throughout the dough. Their sinful, dark presence amid the cream coloured dough would add another dimension of richness once they’d fully baked into the shortbread.

As she gave a few final turns of her spatula, Lila divulged absent-mindedly to her neighbour. “I’ve never made these before, Di. Mum and I made hundreds of sweets over the years,” she smiled a bit sadly, “but never these.” Seeing that the dough was perfectly mixed, Lila began to pour and press the mixture into a greased baking pan.

“Then these will be our special treat, won’t they?” Diana walked over to Lila, patting her lovingly on the shoulder and supervising all the while. “It doesn’t go away, dear, missing her. It never will. But it gets easier with time.”

Nodding placidly, Lila carried the pan over to the preheated oven, carefully placing the dish in the center of the top rack, closing the door, then setting the timer for 40 minutes.

“It’s been three years, though. And each December I feel sadder than the last,” Lila confessed. She looked down at her bare toes – painted a festive burgundy colour for the season – and discreetly wiped away a tear that escaped her eye. She patted the moisture onto the apron Diana always loaned her anytime they were baking together.

“Lila, darling, come here,” Diana insisted. She gestured to the empty seat at the kitchen table beside her own chair. The green-eyed beauty did as she was told, untying her apron and taking down her hair, massaging her scalp as she folded her legging-clad legs into the seat to Diana’s right. She bit her lip to keep more tears from spilling down her cheeks. When Diana held out a well-manicured, elegant hand, Lila grasped it in both of her own.

“It’s quite all right to feel sad, Lila. I’ve only known you for these three years, but I know you’re a remarkable woman – strong, kind, and extremely loving. I consider you my child too, you know, even though I didn’t bring you into the world.”

Lila smiled up at Diana gratefully, sniffing a little as she continued to hold the older woman’s hand.

“You know you always have me, and Sarah and Emma, and their husbands, and the babies…we’re all your family, love.”

Unable to withhold the true depth of her emotions any longer, Lila reached forward to embrace Diana fully, burying her face in the woman’s sweater and inhaling deeply at the motherly feeling of _home._

“I’d include my Thomas in that too, dear, but he’s always so _bloody_ busy…” Diana scolded good-naturedly. “God knows I’ve talked about you enough that he must feel like he knows you…”

Lila didn’t move from her hugging position. She felt the fiery blush coursing through her as soon as Diana said her son’s name. It was Lila’s good luck that, in all her interactions with Diana and her family, she’d never come face to face with the middle child – the one who was a world-famous actor and a household name (and not just in _this_ particular household). He also happened to be one of Lila’s favorite celebrities, and she was very careful to keep that bit of information to herself.

But Diana knew. She was a mum, after all. They tend to figure things out pretty quickly.

“Lila,” laughed Diana, pulling away from their mutual hug, “I can practically feel you blushing! You poor thing. I promise he’s nothing more than my completely normal, sweet baby boy. You don’t need to hide from me – I’ve always known you knew who he was. Don’t think I haven’t observed you these last three years when the girls and I talk about him!”

Lila swallowed, embarrassment colouring her features even more. She took off her glasses so her world was momentarily – blessedly – unfocused, and pretended to clean a small dusting of flour from the lenses. When she responded to Diana’s gentle teasing, she spoke very quietly, as if barely saying the words would keep them very, very secret.

“I don’t want you to think I sought you out to get close to him, or anything. I mean,” she paused, feeling a little overheated, “I’m a fan of his work and I’ve seen his films and things but I’ve always been afraid you would suspect me of–”

Her neighbour cut her off with a hearty laugh. “Oh, Lila! Come now, we all know you moved here because your mum’s family is from here, darling! You even have a _job_ here. And wasn’t I the one who invited you over for the first time? I practically strong-armed you!”

Smiling shyly at the memory, Lila nodded.

It had been another sad weekend, to be sure. Right before Christmas, and only a week and a half after they’d buried her mum and Lila moved in beside Diana’s home. She was still in her crying-at-the-drop-of-a-hat phase, and Diana had found her that Saturday morning, tears pouring down her face, as she retrieved the post and walked back toward the house.

“Miss Roman, is it?” the older woman inquired. Lila was so startled she dropped her mail. When she looked up to see a beaming, motherly person talking to her, she burst into even more tears. Diana was so flustered by this unexpected turn of events that she rushed over to Lila, gathered the girl and her mail, and hauled her into her own home where she was baking with her two daughters.

They made peppermint candy cane twists that afternoon, and Lila actually managed to distract herself and smile for a few hours. When she tried to leave, the two girls – Sarah and Emma – begged her to stay for tea. Lila was reluctant to say yes, but Diana explained that she really needed all three girls to help her with two other biscuit recipes.

“It’s not every day both of my daughters are in town to visit their old mum,” Diana teased them. When she kissed her girls atop their heads, she noticed that Lila’s face crumpled. And so, amid cinnamon sugar drops and pecan tea biscuits, Diana Hiddleston and her daughters learned that Lila Roman’s life had just fallen apart. The young woman told them everything – the car accident, her father’s guilt and insistence she move away, the crippling sadness and unbearable loneliness that haunted her from dawn until dusk each day.

Diana waited until Lila finished her story, letting the girl catch her breath and offering her a handkerchief to dab at her eyes and nose. When she took the cloth, Diana wrapped her arms around Lila and made her a promise.

“Anytime you miss your mum, Lila Roman, you come and see me. And from now on, you are required each December to help me with my baking. Isn’t that right, girls?” Em and Sarah nodded sweetly, tears of their own shining in their bright eyes. The two sisters may have been years apart, but they were holding onto one another as though they’d shared a womb.

“I miss her so much,” Lila confessed softly against Di’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I’ll be around you all the time if I’m to come see you when I miss her.”

“That’s not a problem, my darling.”

So had begun a friendship, a deep caring of sorts that allowed Lila to begin picking up the pieces of her shattered heart. With time, and lots of tea, and much talk, Diana and the girls helped their sweet friend work through her grief. Their gatherings throughout the year were spotty, and not always consistent, but come each December, Lila Roman could count on the Hiddleston women to make the month bearable.

Diana broke Lila’s reverie by reminding her they needed to melt some additional chocolate to drizzle over the shortbread bars, and that there was still one more batch of the rich, decadent treats to make. Reaching out to first stroke the young lady’s cheek lovingly, Diana then stood up in search of her double-boiler pots so as to begin the melting process.

“Do we want to spread the chocolate overtop the bars as they cool, or should we drizzle as the cookery book says?” she asked Lila, finding the pots and arranging them on the burner atop the hob. Lila smiled, rising from her chair and stretching her long legs and dainty arms while mulling over the scenario. The soft plunk of chocolate discs into the saucepan was an indication she should probably decide soon. Walking over to stand by Di’s side, Lila agreed to what the recipe called for, twisting her hair back up and away from her face.

“I think to cover them completely with the melted chocolate would make them uncomfortably rich,” she smiled, taking over for Diana and emptying the rest of the candies into the pot, suspended as it was over the larger one filled with boiling water. “Let me practice my drizzling skills, Di.”

The older woman laughed heartily at Lila’s comment, gifting her with a sweet grin and beginning to assemble the contents of another batch of shortbread into a second, larger mixing bowl. “Your drizzling skills are captivating, I’m sure, dear,” Diana winked, cutting in softened butter to join granulated sugar and flour. “I bet you could try them out on that young man at work?”

Rolling her eyes humorously, Lila didn’t even blush at Diana’s insinuations this time. She knew for a fact that Matthew wasn’t interested. There was a time when Lila thought he might be someone special, and for a while they’d been friends at the publishing company, but he soon ignored her completely. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that Matthew’s attentions moved away from Lila once the _lovely Janelle_ began working with them.

“He’s moved on to…greener pastures,” countered Lila. The chocolates were quickly melting together to form a dark, satiny soup. Deftly, Lila gave the mixture a stir, leaving her post only momentarily so she could carefully take the pan of baked chocolate chip shortbread out of the oven, mere seconds before the timer buzzed.

Diana watched Lila’s body language as she maneuvered around the kitchen, easily placing the pan aside to cool, returning gracefully to her double boiler of melted chocolate to whisk it into smooth ribbons. The young woman was simply gorgeous and she had absolutely no idea. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, Miss Roman,” Diana took on a mock-scolding tone, pointing her dough-covered spatula comically at Lila, “it’s that you’re probably the _greenest_ pasture a man could ever hope for.”

Smiling and shaking her head, Lila thanked Diana softly, removing the top saucer of melted chocolate from the burner and trading her whisk for a small teaspoon. Quickly, so the mixture wouldn’t have time to cool and harden, she moved to the cooling shortbread and dipped the spoon into the melted chocolate, coating her utensil so as to begin delicately draping tiny lashes of chocolate atop the pan of bars.

When Lila was confident in her work, most of the pan drizzled in its decoration, she questioned Di with her full attention, sitting the cooling chocolate back atop the boiling pot on the stove.

“And what makes you think, Diana, that I’m, quote, ‘ _the greenest pasture a man could ever hope for_ ’?” She stuck her tongue out playfully at the older woman, watching as Di finished mixing the next batch of shortbread. Absent-mindedly, Lila curled the remaining dollop of chocolate around the teaspoon still in her hand and placed the tool in her mouth, savouring the rich notes of the dark chocolate. She worked her tongue around the curve of the spoon, making sure that every last coating of the melted candy dissolved against her taste buds. Lila did this while quirking an eyebrow at her opinionated neighbour, who was now pouring the last of the bag of chocolate chip bits into the remaining shortbread batter.

“Because, sweet Lila girl, you’re so similar to my own daughters that I feel like I know you very well after these few short years. You’re adorably beautiful, unassuming, gracious, obviously a hard worker, and I have firsthand knowledge that you’re a divine baker,” Diana winked. “God help the man who falls for you…he’ll be a goner!”

Lila scoffed politely at Di’s words. “Speaking of your own daughters, are Em or Sarah coming this weekend…?” she asked, wondering why neither of the girls was around. It was unfailing that at least one of them came when baking time happened each December. She took the batter bowl from Di, helping her spoon the shortbread mix into another greased dish.

“No,” Diana sighed resignedly. “Everyone’s so busy and said they couldn’t make it until right before Christmas, so it’s just you and me, darling.” She handed the full baking pan to Lila, who transferred the unbaked treats into the oven just as she had with the previous batch. “But I will get to see my gorgeous grandchildren,” Di beamed. “And with any luck my globetrotting s–”

Both women were immediately startled by the sound of Diana’s front door shutting rather loudly.

“Mum?” a male voice called.

Lila had barely turned around from the oven when Diana fled from the kitchen, down her hallway toward the foyer of the house, exclaiming: “Thomas! This is quite a surprise!”

Lila’s stomach swooped as she felt her face and neck flush. The heat from the kitchen suddenly felt unbearably stifling.

Tom Hiddleston was home to see his mother.

And Lila was covered in flour and filled with nerves.

 

 

_Make yourself busy._

_Make yourself busy._

_Make yourself busy._

Lila kept her ears pricked, listening to the conversation being carried out down the hall from where she stood rooted to the floor. She was gazing furtively around the kitchen, trying to decide what to do with her hands and her restless energy, praying that Diana would give her some notice before thrusting Tom in her general direction.

_Thrusting is the wrong word. Oh god._

Hearing footsteps and Di’s voice calling to her, Lila quickly snatched up a knife and began scoring the cooled set of shortbread bars in the pan on the worktop. If she could stay busy and only half pay attention to one of her favourite male celebrities, maybe she wouldn’t turn into a bumbling mess.

“Lila, darling. Look who’s here to see us!”

_Oh shit._

She felt him behind her before he even said a word. Thinking, perhaps, that it would be safer to say hello without having to look into his devastatingly handsome face, Lila began slicing the treats in earnest, careful to space her cuts evenly throughout the pan.

“Hello, Tom,” she said, aiming for a distracted, nonchalant tone. “Give me just a moment…”

“Hello, Lila. Nice to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard _much_ about you.”

When his deep, caramel voice materialized quite near her, pronouncing the two syllables of her name as if they were part of an erotic foreign language, Lila startled, jumping a little and subsequently cutting the tip of her index finger with the sharp knife.

 _“Ouch!”_ she squeaked, throwing the knife down and whirling where she stood, eyes averting away from Tom completely in search of a clean tea towel. She made to step forward and run her finger under some cool tap water, but Tom was at her side in an instant and had gathered her tiny fingers in his considerably larger hand.

“Oh my _god_ I’m so sorry,” he apologized, seemingly embarrassed, as he placed a free hand on the small of her back and led her to the faucet, turning on the water and gently coaxing her bleeding finger under the stream.

Lila got brave, turning her head to look up at him – god he was _SO tall_ – and gave him a small smile to mask the fact that she was about to pass out from being so close to him. It had nothing to do with the bit of blood leaking from the tip of her finger. It had _everything_ to do with both of his hands on her body mere seconds after meeting her for the first time.

“It’s okay, Tom. You just startled me,” she blushed, pushing her glasses back up her nose in a nervous gesture and willing herself to look at him. _Really_ look at him. He was just a normal man, _just Diana’s son_ , Lila reminded herself silently.

“Thomas, you loon, you’ve frightened the poor girl to death,” Diana interrupted, forcefully coming between them to dry Lila’s finger and wrap up her little wound in a plaster. Abashed, Tom looked at the floor and smiled a little sadly, stepping back to allow his mum more room. His blush made Lila’s pulse quicken.

_Say something…this is getting awkward!_

“Di, I’m good. Thank you,” she patted the older woman lovingly on the shoulder. “I need to re-melt the dark chocolate so that it will be ready to drizzle over the other pan of shortbread in a few minutes, okay?”

Before her neighbour could answer, Tom was trying again, smiling at her hopefully across the island where he was leaning forward.

“Are you doing mum’s chocolate chip shortbread, Lila?”

She didn’t miss how his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip absent-mindedly. Gifting him with a shy grin, Lila nodded as she resumed her station at the double boiler, beginning to melt the remains of the chocolate discs.

“Yes, I sure am. Hopefully I haven’t mucked them up, though, because I haven’t tried them yet…” Lila trailed off, returning her attention to her whisk and the melting candy. A low groan met her ears just as her back turned away from Tom. She shivered, unable to control the reaction.

“Oh, _god,_ mum. Can I be the taste tester? Your shortbread is even better than Gran’s.”

Tom was giving his mother puppy-dog eyes, practically pleading with her to eat some of the rich biscuits. It struck Lila as quite a funny thing – a grown man, an extremely sexy man at that, reduced to child-like begging at the whims and mercies of his mum.

“I do recall one occasion several years ago, _Thomas,_ when you ‘taste-tested’ most of an _entire pan_ of my chocolate chip shortbread and were promptly sick all over my freshly-scrubbed kitchen floor!”

Lila couldn’t help it; a tiny, barking laugh flew from her lips before she could stop it. Turning at the waist so she could keep an eye on the gooey richness melting below her, she lifted bespectacled eyes to see Tom grinning embarrassedly at the floor, biting his lip.

“I think he can have a bite, Di,” Lila rebutted, taking pity on him as she glanced at Diana. “He did make time to surprise his precious mum and see her, didn’t he?”

She ran her whisk fluidly through the molten chocolate, turning down the heat of the burner just a fraction. As soon as Tom lifted his eyes, Lila had returned her full attentions to the task at hand. _If I can just get accustomed to him in small doses,_ she thought, experimenting with the viscosity of the chocolate by raising her whisk from the pan and dripping some of the melted candy back into the pot to see if it was thin enough.

Small doses wouldn’t be happening, apparently.

Tom had moved stealthily to Lila’s side, peering down at the chocolate being stirred in the saucepan. “Is that for the shortbread?” he asked curiously, turning so he was leaning his back against the worktop and staring at her intently.

“Uhm,” she fought the stammer in her voice, “this is the chocolate drizzle that goes overtop the shortbread once it’s cooled, yes.”

The timer went off at Lila’s side, and she directed Tom – as politely as she could without blushing – to keep gently stirring the melted chocolate on the hob so she could retrieve the other pan of shortbread from the oven.

“Mum _never_ let me help in the kitchen,” he pouted cutely, stirring carefully, just as Lila had requested. Lila noticed how gracefully Tom moved aside for her to open the oven door, almost as if they were performing a choreographed dance. After closing the oven door, turning off the appliance, and carrying the hot pan to her workspace, Lila took Tom’s bait.

“And why was that?”

He was about to answer her, seeming to get lost for a moment in her movements: gently sitting the dish down, discarding her oven mitt, returning to his side and motioning for him to remove the whisk.

When Lila looked up at him coquettishly for his answer, he forgot what she’d asked.

Diana saved him.

“Because he always ate _everything_ I put in front of him, whether he was supposed to or not,” she laughed heartily. “He was always putting away food like a starving boy but I never saw it go anywhere! Rail thin, this one always stays…”

Lila glanced back at Diana, willing herself to ignore how tall and muscled Tom had evidently become in adulthood. She dipped a clean spoon into her melting chocolate mixture and began to scrape the bottom and sides of the pot so nothing would stick and burn. “Di, give your baby boy a treat, poor thing,” she whispered sweetly, still not wanting to focus too much of her attention on Tom.

“Lila Roman! You know I always let you have the first bite,” Tom’s mother scolded playfully. She even moved to snap the young woman on the hip with the tea towel she was holding in her hands. Forgetting who was in the kitchen with her, Lila let out a little unconscious squeal and dodged Diana’s mischief, trying desperately to keep stirring the chocolate occasionally. She found herself laughing quite intensely, clutching at her stomach as giggles spilled from her mouth.

“That’s a sound I like hearing, Lila,” Di spoke seriously. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.”

Lila looked up at Diana, then over at Tom, who was once again leaning casually against the worktop (she noticed he’d moved himself closer to the two pans of shortbread) and watching her with great interest.

“Me too,” she answered. “Thank you for always having me, Di. I think we’re about ready for another drizzle,” Lila motioned to the bare pan of shortbread at Tom’s side that still needed a light coating of melted chocolate. “Tom, would you like to do this one?”

His megawatt smile had Lila swallowing thickly; _that_ was the face she’d seen splashed across the internet and on movie posters.

“What if I mess it up?” he asked adorably, moving aside a little when Lila brought the heated saucepan and spoon toward him. The closer she came, the more unsure of himself he looked. Lila had a fleeting urge to kiss him for being so ridiculously cute, but then laughed at herself at the absurdity of wanting to do so with a stranger she’d never actually met before. The laugh actually came out in quite an unflattering manner, and Tom seemed to think she was laughing at him. He looked a little hurt.

She covered her mistake very quickly, turning her expression into a dead-serious mask.

“Then we eat the entire pan, Thomas.”

His delighted laugh erupted throughout the kitchen as he threw his head back, expressing his mirth. “Then I’ll definitely screw this one up.”

Taking an unnoticeably deep breath, Lila planted herself right beside Tom and handed him the melted chocolate and spoon. “See the pan I did earlier?”

He nodded, first glancing at the finished shortbread, then looking at her earnestly, not wanting to make a mistake. He seemed intent on pleasing her.

“Just move the spoon through the chocolate until you’ve gathered a fair amount into the well of the spoon,” she began, nodding when he did as she instructed. “Then you’re going to start at the top edge of the pan and tilt the spoon almost on its face so the chocolate drips from the edge.”

She didn’t even need to help him. As soon as she’d given Tom his directives, he was drizzling tiny, delicate streams of chocolate atop the plain pan of shortbread, carefully dripping similarly sized lines onto the confection.

“Like this, Lila?”

The young woman determined he was really going to need to stop saying her name. It made her feel warm and breathless. It didn’t help that she could see the tip of his pink tongue peeking out from between his lips, so full of concentration was he.

 _I bet he got away with murder as a child,_ she reasoned humorously.

“Just like that. Now get a little more on your spoon,” Lila instructed, and Tom did as she bid. “Finish off the pan.”

Deeming him successful at his first foray into actual baking, Lila moved to begin clearing up the bowls and utensils she and Di had dirtied. Diana was at the other finished shortbread pan, putting a few pieces on a china plate for the three of them to sample. Lila piled things into the sink, turning on warm water. Over the din of the running water and the clanking of various cutlery and crockery, she thought she heard a soft, deep moan.

Turning, her wrists in soapy water, Lila saw Tom turned away from the worktop, eyes closed, chocolate-covered spoon in his mouth. He made another similar noise, eyelids fluttering, as his tongue began to lap at the stubborn traces of chocolate on the teaspoon.

She had to look away because she knew she was staring, mouth open.

Diana chose that moment to continue teasing her only son.

“You see, Lila? He just can’t _help_ himself! Thomas, give it here…you can have some once we’ve finished clearing up.”

Lila could only smile weakly at Diana's teasing jibes.

_Focus on washing._

_Focus on washing._

_Do not think of his mouth and tongue on that spoon._

She was met with another pair of hands in the dishwater alongside her own, shortly after she began the washing up. Tom had moved to help with the cleaning.

“Are you part cat?” Lila asked, trying to be funny to mask her hyperawareness of his close proximity to her – again. He began scrubbing batter from one of the large mixing bowls they’d used. He seemed confused and looked at Lila, one eyebrow raised. She tittered a bit, deciding to be a little playful, and nudged him in the side. “You’re very quiet and you keep sneaking up on me.”

He grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows in a comical manner, causing Lila to relax more as she scrubbed the crockery before loading it into Di’s dishwasher. He was very accommodating, helping her transfer the dirty items into the appliance and wiping the worktop free of water when they finished.

“Thank you, you two,” Diana intoned, taking a seat at the spacious kitchen table with the large china plate of shortbread bars. “Thomas, whenever you’re ready, my boy. You get first dibs.”

Lila laughed, smiling as Tom raced over to his mum’s side. He sat down in the empty chair beside her and gingerly reached out for a piece of the chocolate chip shortbread, looking at Diana for permission once more. As Lila made her way over to the table, Tom turned to look at her for approval, too.

Her mind was elsewhere, looking at the clock and realizing she needed to be home soon so she could ring her father, as she did every evening at this hour. Tom’s attention completely escaped her. She adjusted her clothes, letting her oversize jumper slip off a creamy shoulder. She took down her long hair from its twist atop her head, shaking out the reddish-brown waves. She also took off her glasses to check for any other stray bits of dough, flour, or chocolate. When she deemed herself situated and donned her frames again, pushing them delicately up her nose, she found Diana staring at Tom, who hadn’t taken a bite yet.

Tom was watching Lila, mouth open and eyes wide. His cheeks were tinged with the slightest trace of a pink flush.

“Go on then, Tom,” Diana prodded. She smirked at her son, knowing what he was finally seeing before his own eyes.

Lila hadn’t noticed much of anything, so focused was she on getting herself prepared to leave in a few minutes’ time. She stood at the edge of the table, placing a hand on Di’s shoulder and smiling down at the woman who’d become her surrogate mother. Reaching for the expensive china plate and taking a wedge of the shortbread, she held the treat to her lips, forcing herself to look into Tom’s piercing blue gaze.

“Ready, Tom?” Lila asked.

All he could do was nod, biting into the buttery, crunchy treat and watching Lila all the while. Lila did the same, enjoying the burst of rich, subtly flavored shortbread dotted on top and throughout with semi-sweet bursts of chocolate. Her green eyes closed of their own accord and she hummed in quiet pleasure.

“Guess I should try, too…” Diana murmured, copying the two ‘children’, as she still called them.

The silence in the kitchen was only punctuated by the crunching noises of the shortbread and an occasional exclamation of “mmm” between the three occupants.

Tom rapidly finished two more pieces before turning to his mother, licking his fingers – Lila had to look away – and thanking her for her delicious work.

“Oh no, darling,” Di demurred. “Lila did these herself from scratch. I merely provide the moral support.”

Tom blushed a shade darker, quietly thanking his new friend. Smiling at the love in Diana’s voice and nodding at Tom’s appreciation, Lila bent down to give her neighbour a kiss on the cheek.

“I have to go, Diana. Thank you, as always, for a lovely afternoon. I need to go ring dad, okay?” She didn’t know what to say to Tom, who was still watching her as if she’d grown a second head. He was absently brushing crumbs from his royal blue sweater, not even looking down at what his hands were doing.

Diana nodded, turning in her chair but making no move to get up. Lila always fussed at her about following her out the door, insisting she not worry about her getting home all right – it was just across the back garden, after all. “Tell him I said hello, Lila.”

The young woman nodded, turning to leave down the hallway when Diana stopped her.

“Lila, darling, are we on for tomorrow, too?”

The young beauty spun around in place, her long, lustrous hair fanning around her playfully. “What’s tomorrow, Di?”

The older woman winked at Lila before responding. “Sunday is Almond Crescents.”

Tom practically choked in his chair. “Oh _god,_ mum. You’re trying to _kill_ me, aren’t you? Are those the ones dipped in chocolate, too?” he sounded pained. Lila couldn’t help noticing how he leaned back in his chair, miles-long legs splayed wide, stroking his abdomen.

Diana merely laughed, patting her son on the knee. She turned back to Lila. “My son has a ravenous sweet tooth, as you can tell. Especially for chocolate. Will we see you tomorrow, dear?”

Biting her lip unconsciously at the sight of Tom’s lithe form and the look of tortured pleasure on his face, Lila caught his gaze for just a moment too long, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. His next words didn’t help.

“Please come back, Lila. I’ll be your loyal slave for some more of mum’s treats…” he winked sweetly.

She braced herself, looking at Diana.

“Will do, lovely Di. And if you need me to run out and get anything or you want to do more than one kind of biscuit tomorrow, let me know, okay?”

Diana nodded, grinning. “Marvelous. Good night, you sweet girl!”

“Night, Di,” she waved, and then: “lovely to meet you, Tom.” Lila nodded politely, once again desperately trying not to rove her eyes over his every inch.

“Pleasure was all mine, Lila,” Tom rose, moving toward her to show her out of his mother’s home. His voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave.

He was every bit as chivalrous as people made him out to be, hovering a protective hand at the small of her back as she made her way to the foyer and grabbed her bag and coat, stepping into her flats. She was surprised – and not a little flustered – when he enveloped her spontaneously into a bracingly tight hug, holding Lila to him for a moment.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on mum,” he murmured. “She loves you.”

Lila’s eyes got a bit watery at the endearment, and she pulled away from Tom with a sincere smile. His hands didn’t leave her arms when she first extricated herself from his hold.

“I love her, too. Very much. Night, Tom.”

He bade her goodnight, watching the young woman traverse her well-worn path between Diana’s house and her own. Just as she reached her door, Lila heard Tom call to her once more.

“Lila?”

She turned, tilting her head a bit to see him in the light of dusk.

“You have a little flour on your nose," he paused for just a moment, weighing his words, "and you’re even more beautiful than she described.”


	2. Sugar-Dusted Almond Crescents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Di and Lila make cookies during the second day of their annual December baking visit. Tom wants to help, quite badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major fluff, everyone. I like this Tom *a lot*. (I think OC likes him too.)
> 
> As always, I love hearing everyone's comments, and the more comments I get, the faster I write! It really is fuel to my writing fire, if you will.
> 
> xoxo

A light flurry of snow met Lila when she opened her front door early the next afternoon, her arms laden with extra items to be taken over to Diana’s house. She always brought her own mixing bowls whenever they baked, because the women (usually including Sarah and Em) believed that the only thing worse than _no sweets_ was _not enough sweets._

Big batches of all recipes were always in order.

Along with two glass mixing bowls, Lila juggled her purse, her keys, and the fresh bag of confectioner’s sugar meant to coat the almond crescents they’d be making. Careful to avoid the slick spots along the pathway between her front garden and Di’s, Lila mused to herself that she was glad she’d decided to put her contact lenses in. She’d been irritated the previous day by having to continually push her frames up her nose. Sure, that was fine if she was at work reading a particularly delightful mock-up of a new children’s book, but when her hands were covered in butter and flour, it was an encumbrance.

If she was honest with herself, she may have also wanted Tom to see how green her eyes were.

_He might not even be there,_ Lila reasoned. _Don’t get all freaked out again._

She wore the same warm, comfortably soft clothes she always favoured when working in the kitchen: today’s leggings were a rich claret, and she paired them with a well-loved mocha-coloured shirt that was the softest cashmere she’d ever owned. Tiptoeing her way along the cobbled path that dotted its way to Diana’s front door, avoiding icy little spots, Lila carefully balanced the bowls, sugar, and her own bag.

Just as she was figuring out how to position all her items so she could knock on the door, Di opened it with a wide smile, motioning Lila inside silently. Grabbing the bowls out of Lila’s hands, Diana winked at the young girl as they entered the toasty warm foyer of the house. With a finger to her lips, Tom’s mother signaled that they still needed to be quiet, although it was already after lunch.

“Poor boy is so jet-lagged. He was up well into the night last night…probably reading a script or working on one of his editorials people ask him to write. Don’t think he got much sleep until well after I went to bed myself.”

Nodding in understanding, Lila followed Di through the hallway after discarding her shoes and purse at the door. She was careful not to make a sound, simply holding the bag of sugar and inhaling the divine aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Di heard Lila’s appreciative inhale, however small it may have been.

“I made a nice big pot of coffee, sweet girl. You and I will need it to stay productive, and it’ll help my baby boy wake up whenever he’s ready. And of course,” Diana laughed quietly, “it goes so well with our almond crescents!”

“That it does,” replied Lila. “I think we’ll have enough of the sugar to give the biscuits a good coating when they’ve cooled.” She motioned to the unopened bag in her hands.

“Wonderful, Lila,” Di took the package from her hands, placing it among the myriad other ingredients on the island worktop. “And I’ve gone ahead and gathered some more of the dark chocolate for dipping; I know you heard Tom mention yesterday how much he loves these treats when they’re robed in chocolate…”

Lila barely stifled a shudder at the thought of Tom plus chocolate: two things that she found to be very pleasing. She’d heard it said somewhere, at least once, that Tom’s voice reminded people of chocolate. Or smooth caramel. Or some other wickedly delicious, sinful thing. Hearing it emanating from the silver screen, or from a television, or her iPad, was one thing… …but yesterday, hearing it right behind her, next to her… _saying her name._

Oh boy.

Lila steeled herself, hoping the man would stay asleep at _least_ until she and Diana could get a first batch going. She would lose a good deal of her concentration – reserved for measuring, shaping, timing, and decorating – if Tom was awake and being handsome in her general vicinity. There was little time to waste, especially with the way the coffee’s scent was filling the house.

“Okay, let’s see, Di…you’ve got the butter, flour, sugar, vanilla, some salt…I think we talked about adding a dash of cinnamon when we made these last year…” Lila took a quick inventory of the worktop’s present ingredients. “I brought the confectioner’s, and you have the chocolate…are we working with almonds, almond extract…?”

Diana was about to point to the small bottle of almond extract when her mobile went off with a charming little tinkling sound. Rushing over to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve the device, Diana’s face changed to a blinding beam of joy when she saw that Emma was trying to reach her via FaceTime.

“My baby girl! What a lovely surprise,” Diana cooed into the phone. She tried to be quiet but her excitement at seeing Emma won out. “I thought you were in strict rehearsal mode for your new venture at the Almeida?”

She moved closer to where Lila was sorting through ingredients so that all three of them could chat together.

“I am, mum, but I just wanted to check in and make sure that the biscuit fairies are still pressing on with their duties despite me and Sarah not being available this year,” Emma replied.

Lila waved, tying her hair up in a loose bun before saying hello. “Hey, Em. Of course we’re baking! It wouldn’t be December without it…and I would be a sad sack over at my house otherwise! How’s married life?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Emma trilled. Both Lila and Diana could see the genuine happiness and contentment that radiated from her when she spoke about Jack. “I’m tearing my hair out because this play preparation started so soon after our honeymoon, but…” she sighed in relief, “he’s the real deal, Liles. And so understanding of my work schedule.”

Diana swiveled the phone back her way a bit to join the conversation once more. “I should hope so, darling! I didn’t raise you to accept _any_ less!” She nodded matter-of-factly. “I’m going to hand you over to Lila while I get a few other things prepped, okay my love?”

Emma just laughed as the screen jostled, waiting for the takeover to end. “So which biscuits are today, Lila? How have you been? Anything exciting on the work front?”

Lila carried the phone with her as she walked over to the coffee pot, reaching out for the steaming mug of rich, black coffee Di handed her. She mouthed a _thanks_ before answering Emma’s list of queries.

“Almond crescents are today…I’ll try and save you some and stash them at my place so if you come in to town you can have one or two. But probably only one. Or maybe just a half,” she wrinkled her nose playfully. Emma nodded in solemn appreciation at her friend’s devotion to the cause. “I’ve been pretty well,” Lila continued, pausing to sip the smooth, piping hot drink in her right hand. “Not feeling as sad as usual, but still sort of shite seeing as it’s December once again.”

If there was one thing Diana taught Lila not long after they’d met, it was to _accept_ her feelings. Not to hide or sugarcoat them. It was okay to feel bad, and also okay to admit to it.

Lila continued: “I did have a rather ugly cry last evening but that was because I listened to some carols and of course did the thing where I sat there and thought about mum not being here...”

She could always rely on a Hiddleston woman to say or do the right thing during moments of abject heartbreak. Luckily, she was currently with two of them. Diana wrapped a tender arm around Lila’s shoulders while they continued their FaceTime session with Emma. And Emma, to her credit, reached out the way she always did with Lila – by offering a concrete solution to the momentary gloom.

“I’m going to be in to visit mum in a couple of days, the closer we get to Christmas, Liles. What say you and I go out shopping until we drop, and then we can have a girl’s night in watching stupid movies and drinking some of that god-awful wine you love?”

Lila couldn’t help it; though she smiled thankfully, a tear still escaped from her eye. She often found herself overwhelmed at the idea that an entire _family_ had taken her in and seen to it that her unbearable moments were made more bearable.

“I’d love that, Em. Honestly,” Lila looked at the floor as she confessed, “that will get me through the next few days, having something to look forward to with you.”

Di squeezed Lila’s shoulders and leaned in to put her face beside Lila’s so Emma could see them both at once. “Good to hear from you, my English rose. I hate to cut this meeting short but we have much baking to do!”

Emma laughed, making Lila swear once again that she would pilfer and hide some of the almond crescents – among the other things they’d already made – and Lila agreed in a mock-conspiratorial way. Just as they were saying their goodbyes, Emma seemed to remember something important, practically shouting through the mobile.

“Liles! I forgot to ask…how’s _Matthew?”_

The way Emma enunciated his name was a clear indication that she still thought something was happening between the two of them. Lila didn’t have the heart or the courage to admit that she’d once again been passed over by a regular guy for a bombshell of the highest order. She did what would end the conversation faster: she avoided altogether.

“I’ll let you know when you drink my god-awful wine with me.”

Em stuck her tongue out at her friend, and then gave an air kiss to her mother before signing off.

As soon as the call ended Lila felt herself relaxing a little bit. It was almost like the idea of having to tell Emma, again, that guys just weren’t interested in her, embarrassed and flustered her to the point of fatigue. When your mum is dead and your friends are blissfully wed, sometimes it’s difficult to deal.

Taking a couple of deep breaths and sipping the strong brew in her hands, Lila watched Diana place her phone to the side before enjoying her own mug. As she savored the liquid, Diana looked at Lila’s hands and began laughing quite heartily.

“Oh, goodness me!” she sputtered, bending over slightly while still staring at the drink Lila held. “I forgot I even _had_ that mug. Must’ve not been paying attention when I was making your cuppa!”

Lila had no idea what Di was talking about, but she moved her hands around the mug to see what all the fuss was about. She was met with a picture of Tom’s grinning face and the words

**TOM HIDDLESTON’S VOICE IS LIKE COFFEE: HOT AND RICH**

Instead of nodding her head in complete agreement at this accuracy (and remembering her earlier mental comparisons of his voice to chocolate and caramel), Lila occupied herself with questioning Diana as to why such an odd object would be in a mum’s possession.

“It was a gag gift from one of the women I’m on theatre council with,” Di snorted. “It’s even funnier because it’s in my house and makes me seem like a nutter!”

Shaking her head and laughing softly, Lila turned to walk over to the kitchen island, ready to deposit her drink and begin mixing together the dry ingredients for the biscuits.

Unfortunately, the owner of said coffee-chocolate-caramel voice had quietly made his way into the kitchen unnoticed, and Lila ended up running smack into his broad chest, dumping a good fourth of her drink down her hand, wrist, and arm, barely keeping from sloshing hot coffee onto his person.

_“Shit!”_ Lila sputtered, jumping back with wide eyes. _“Ouch, shit!”_

Not wanting to drop the mug and cause an even bigger mess all over Diana’s flooring, Lila rushed to the counter to deposit the drink, then moved to the sink to run cool water over her reddened hand. In a replay of yesterday’s events – Lila swore the gods were trying to kill her slowly, torturously – Tom was at her side in moments, helping to rinse the beverage off of her and murmuring sincerest apologies in a deeply regretful tone.

The worst part was that his voice remained full of sleep – husky, deep, untried. Somehow this made everything worse, to Lila’s ears.

_How is it possible that he can sound even sexier?_

She would have been mad if it weren’t for the anxious look on his face. He seemed genuinely worried about her as he stood there, staring at her through hooded eyelids behind his – _oh, wow_ \- glasses. Try as she might to resist, she took an inventory anyway.

His hair was sticking up and curled at the ends, as though he’d tossed and turned for the better part of the night.

One short curl was splayed against his left temple, as though it had been squashed in Tom’s quest to find a comfortable position.

Her eyes noted, during a quick once-over, that his white t-shirt was quite fitted, and the black sweatpants he wore hung enticingly low on his hips.

Lila didn’t even want to get started on the hint of his lean, muscled tummy peeking out from the space where his shirt ended and his sweats began.

_Are these bloody contact lenses outfitted with super-sight?_

She swore she could see a little freckle on his hipbone.

Looking away as she turned off the tap and reached for a tea towel, Lila made the mistake of taking a deep breath; she was about to let Tom know that _yes, she was okay, but could he please stop sneaking up on her?_

This was a bad idea. Tom’s scent invaded her head – clean, slightly musky, and warm with sleep. She could detect a little bit of soap, as well as the toothpaste he’d most likely used before coming into the kitchen. She swallowed thickly as she dried off her still-pink hand and arm.

“Are you blistered anywhere, darling?” Tom asked, reaching out a hand to try and inspect her right arm. Lila reluctantly allowed him to grasp her thin wrist in his long, agile fingers, watching as he turned her forearm this way and that, running a thumb soothingly over her knuckles as he did so. She shook her head no, squeezing her eyes shut momentarily to try and fight off her agitation at his closeness.

“Good lord, Thomas. You’ve caused the poor girl to bleed _and_ burn because of you! I’d say you need to step out of the kitchen before she decides she never wants to come back!” Diana jibed, swatting her son out of the way so she could check Lila’s flesh herself.

Lila redoubled her efforts to brush off the situation and get away from Tom. He made her so nervous – and it was funny how seeing him in such a normal setting, in sleep clothes, just a son with his mum, made him seem even more endearing and adorable. Not to mention the fact that he kept stuttering sweet little apologies.

“I’m okay, Di. I could never not come back,” Lila smiled a tiny smile at her. Her eyes flitted to Tom’s for a moment, and she gifted him, too, with a little grin. He seemed to visibly relax at the sight, an affirmation she wasn’t mad at him.

Deeming the accident finished, Tom began preparing a mug of his own coffee, but he was careful not to turn his back to Lila as he did so. It was almost as if he was afraid to leave her unattended – even though he was the one who’d caused two incidents in as many days.

“But I think he needs to wear a bell or something,” Lila finished a few seconds later.

His innocent lip-lick, followed by what seemed to be an embarrassingly hot blush, almost made Lila feel bad for him, if he hadn’t looked so handsome.

 

 

Almond crescent preparation kicked off without further incident, and Lila busied herself with assembling her main ingredients into bowls so she could ignore the sleepy-looking, deep-voiced, world-famous actor who was happily eating the toast and jam his mum had just made him. With one elbow propped atop the island, he looked like a child who’d just been upgraded to eat at the adult’s table.

_I bet she spoiled him rotten as a child,_ Lila mused.

She observed the mother-son duo while she beat her wet ingredients together, making sure the sugar, butter, and extracts were blended exceptionally well. Tom’s eyes closed and he smiled whenever Diana dropped a kiss on his head, or when she ran her aged fingers through his wild hair. It was very clear to Lila that Tom had an enormous amount of love for his mother, and that he relished his time with her – since his days of carefree leisure were few and far between anymore.

When Di asked him if he wanted more toast and coffee, he nodded like a little boy, leaning over to peck his mum on the cheek in thanks. He caught Lila looking at him and gave her a genuine smile, sipping the freshly refilled coffee that was placed before him and watching her as she began to add her flour, salt, and cinnamon to the doughy mixture.

“Would you like to help me today, Tom?” asked Lila, issuing the question with a calmness she didn’t quite feel. She’d begun to scrape the sides of the bowl, preparing to form pieces of the dough into little quarter-moon shapes.

She asked because if he wasn’t helping her, she felt sure he would sit in the kitchen and watch her the entire time she and Di baked. Lila didn’t think she would be able to handle it without jumping out of her skin, or confessing how attractive he was and how she thought he was a brilliant actor and _would you please just kiss me now, thank you?_

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again, Lila.”

His raised eyebrow and the little patch of crumbs at the corner of his mouth gave her a bit of fortitude.

_Okay, he’s normal. He has food on his face. But god, what a face._

“Would you at least taste the dough for me to make sure it’s okay?” Lila asked. Her mum – as well as Diana and the girls – had often told her that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.

Maybe he would grow to like her if the sweets were yummy enough.

“Mum never lets me do that,” he responded with a surprised smile, eyes darting over to where his mother was busy mixing her own batch of the almond dough. Diana turned to look at her mischievous child, who was grinning mirthfully. “See, mum,” Tom told her proudly, “Lila _likes_ me. She’ll let me try some!”

Lila and Di both laughed at Tom’s excitement.

“Just a bite, Thomas. We actually need to  _bake_ these,” Diana warned. She winked at Lila, nodding in an okay gesture.

“My hands are clean, Tom,” Lila said, pulling apart a bit of the sticky dough between her thumb and index fingers. She walked over to where Tom sat, and he hunched over the island to retrieve the dough. Lila figured he would take the piece of unbaked biscuit into his own fingers and then eat it, but before she knew it, Tom had gently grasped her wrist and brought her little fingers to his mouth, licking the dough from her digits with an unconscious flick of his tongue.

She froze.

As it turned out, once he realized what he’d done, Tom froze too.

It was only a split-second, but they stared at one another with wide eyes. Lila, without thinking, lifted her thumb to her own mouth to lick at the remaining traces of dough – realizing too late that Tom’s own mouth had just been there.

Her blush only increased when Tom whispered, “those are perfect, Lila.” He gave her a shy nod, his gaze dropping to the thumb she’d just licked – where his tongue had already swiped. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore thoughts of his tongue exploring other delicate parts of Lila’s body.

“Does she meet with your approval, Thomas?” Diana inquired, not having noticed the intimate interaction between her son and her neighbour. Her back had been turned as she shaped the treats and placed them on her own baking sheet. Diana was referencing Lila’s skills as a _baker_ when she asked him the question, but Tom’s answer revealed he was feeling much more than just approval for her acumen in the kitchen. He went for it.

“Oh, mum. She’s lovely,” he stared sincerely into Lila’s eyes as he stood, rounding the island to approach her. She had to look away and return to her bowl, her eyes continually darting to the pad of her thumb that _Tom Hiddleston just licked._

“I think she’s very graceful when she’s moving around with you and I can see her beautiful green eyes today,” Tom continued, making his way closer to a slightly trembling Lila. “She’s so nice to us and I heard her laughing with Emma…she is part of our family. She can cook and she lets me eat dough and I don’t think she should go home.”

He took the pause after his final word settled to tuck a strand of Lila’s glossy hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear, tracing a finger lightly along the shell. Lila murmured a barely-audible thank you at his gesture before trying to convince Tom, halfheartedly, that his high esteem of her was probably misplaced.

“You forgot to mention I’m a big fan of yours and I’m trying not to pass out because you’re so close,” she whispered honestly, beginning to separate pieces of dough in the bowl and forming them into crescents for her own baking sheet. She couldn’t even look at him once the words passed her lips.

_“Lila,”_ Tom drew out the syllables of her name in a soft, sensual sound, “I’m just Tom. I’m Tom who wants to eat treats and right now all I am is your neighbor’s son and favorite child.”

Diana snorted loudly, rebuffing him. “You wish, sweet boy!”

The repartee broke the tension, and Lila relaxed into a genuine chuckle. Tom latched onto her newfound calm and continued to coax her away from her apprehension.

“You make _me_ rather nervous, I admit,” Tom leaned against the worktop beside Lila so he could stare down at her. “I want to help you but you’re clearly a pro and I’ve already managed to maim you a few times…”

Lila scoffed, but Tom continued, all sincerity.

“I’m serious…how embarrassing that I’ve become a bumbling idiot right upon seeing you! I’ve wanted to meet you for a couple of years now and mum’s talked you up for so long – you’re living up to every bit of it, by the way –”

Lila’s face was flushing, but the giddy pleasure of Tom’s admissions was lending her bravery, despite his closeness. He kept on, and her pleasure grew.

“I made sure I had time off right at this moment because I’d hoped I could come home and meet you. I know how much you and mum and my sisters enjoy doing this every December…”

Unexpectedly, Lila’s eyes teared up as she continued shaping her sweet little crescents. “It’s a lifeline for me,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the elbow of her sleeve since her fingers were covered in goo.

His hand gently curled around her shoulder – the thin material allowed his warmth to permeate her skin. Whereas she might have normally flinched, she actually felt herself relaxing into Tom’s gentle, polite touch.

“I know it is. Mum’s honored that our family can help you in any way you need. Sweet girls need to be loved _all_ the time, but especially around Christmas.”

Lila would never know what exactly came over her, but she impulsively stood on tiptoe to give Tom the barest hint of a kiss on his cheek. Her watery smile when she stared into his stunningly blue eyes melted him.

“Don’t cry, Lila,” Tom finished lamely, not knowing what to say or do. The kiss had fuzzed his brain for a bit. He found his hand had started making soothing passes along the small of her back as she returned to her work. She made no move to step away from him, instead standing a little closer while she prepped the sweets.

“Okay,” she breathed, sniffing one last time and turning her face back toward Tom’s. He was still watching her anxiously, not knowing if he’d made her more or less upset than she was a few moments ago. “Can you please wipe my face a little?” Lila asked him, nodding to one of the tea towels draped on the worktop near her baking sheet. “My hands are a little occupied…”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Gently, Tom dabbed traces of tears from Lila’s cheeks and the corners of her eyes, smiling at her in a soothing manner the whole time.

“Better now?” he murmured, watching her with something akin to reverence.

“Mm hmm,” Lila nodded, stopping her work and stilling her hands to gaze up at Diana’s sweet son. “Will you help me make these?” she nodded to the remaining dough that would be baked, rolled in sugar, and consumed.

“Only if you stay for dinner,” Tom answered. His face moved closer to Lila’s, memorizing the intense green of her eyes and the enlarged, inky black of her pupils. His left arm had wrapped itself loosely around her waist. _“Please_ say you’ll stay.”

Once again, he transformed into an adorably hopeful child, and there was no way she could have even considered saying no. He fluctuated from endearing to sensual and back again and the heady combination was something she began to crave. Keeping her eyes on Tom, Lila turned just a fraction to speak loudly to a preoccupied Di.

“Diana, I’m staying for dinner.”

The older woman turned to her son and her neighbour, her face triumphant.

“I was wondering when my lonely little boy would ask you.”


	3. Marshmallow Chocolate Crinkles (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila makes a discovery about Tom, and becomes brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bad bad writer, y'all. I've been away for too long! Blame work, blame me being sick...I'm sorry I left you guys hanging!
> 
> I hope everyone is gearing up for a wonderful holiday. I love you all and appreciate your kudos, your hits, and especially your messages.

Tom Hiddleston considered himself quite adept at reading human beings. It was a skill he’d honed after several years of inhabiting characters and immersing himself in their various personalities and quirks.

He wasn’t immersing himself in Lila Roman, _per se_ , but was able to discern a fair bit about the lovely young woman as the three enjoyed Diana’s infamous Sunday roast, replete with cooked veg and her homemade flaky bread.

Number one: Lila had impeccable manners. The way she daintily held her drinking glass, the way she artfully draped her serviette across her lap after lightly dabbing her mouth between bites…even the way she politely settled her cutlery against the rim of her plate when she finished her meal had Tom wanting to watch her every move.

Number two: Lila enjoyed food and was not ruled by it. In Tom’s industry, many women were ambivalent toward food, or ignored it altogether. Some even planned whole days or weeks around the strategic inhalation, avoidance, and/or purging of it. Seeing Lila graciously accepting seconds of his mum’s food, savouring each bite without thought to what or how much she was eating, made him smile.

Number three: Lila was absolutely unaware of how stunning she was. To be fair, he’d realized this yesterday, but observing her in a more relaxed environment – after her initial discomfort at his nearness wore off – revealed that she didn’t do things to entice him on purpose, she was merely more comfortable with being around him. Tom was so used to women preening and posing and flirting for his attention. Lila merely did things because they needed to be done. Hair draping into her eyes? She delicately swept the tresses behind her ear. The neck of her shirt draping too far off her shoulder? An unconscious sweep of her little fingers pulled the garment up, her index finger brushing absently against the creamy skin of her collarbone. Simple things, really.

There was nothing coy or playful in the way Lila Roman executed these gestures, but for Tom, each movement made him want to hold her hands, nuzzle her neck, kiss her mouth.

Number four: Lila was perhaps the loneliest person he’d met in a very long time. Perhaps it was the time of year, or maybe his mum doted on her too acutely, but a few times during their meal he could see the sparkle of tears in Lila’s eyes and the way she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying when Diana asked routine questions about her work, and her friends, and her not-so-extended family.

He was silently grateful to his dear old mum for the few private bits of information she managed to extricate from Lila’s lips – things he wouldn’t have to ask about. He would just store them away for later, forming a well-rounded picture of the woman his sisters now considered one of their closest friends.

He’d known she was an only child, but in her chatter with Diana, a reference to being a “miracle baby” slipped out.

_Infertility_ , he guessed. She became exponentially more precious in his eyes at that moment.

She worried incessantly about her father, something Tom had been told previously when Di was getting to know her next-door neighbour, because Mr. Roman had taken his wife’s death even harder than his daughter had. And that was saying something.

Lila’s inability to see how stunning she was also, evidently, extended to her workplace. While listening to her regale Diana with an embarrassing story about some lad named Matthew ignoring her at work for the “buxom Janelle”, Tom could see Lila’s feelings of inadequacy written all over her downcast face. He fought the urge to scoop her up and soothe her in his lap, dining table be damned.

“Thomas, why don’t you ask Lila how long she’s been a fan of yours,” Diana quipped, breaking Tom from his reverie and causing Lila to gasp out loud.

“Di!” she groaned, hiding her beautiful face behind her linen napkin. “And I was doing so well…”

His mum laughed heartily, reaching a hand across the table to pat Lila’s arm. Tom felt his heart quicken at the thought that Lila might actually _like_ him, especially after he’d embarrassed himself by indirectly cutting and burning her.

Tom had initially soured (long before he met her, of course) at the thought of his mother befriending a young lady who recognized the surname Hiddleston. Fans were well and good, and important to his work, but he preferred to separate his two worlds: job and home. When he learned more about Miss Roman through the years from his mum and sisters, he began to relax. Perhaps she wasn’t trying to get to him? Maybe his ego was a little too inflated, considering every female he came in contact with to be a fan?

“I promise I didn’t seek your mum out to get to you,” Lila whispered in Tom’s direction, slowly lowering her napkin and giving him a painfully shy glance before staring at her lap. Tom smiled at her indulgently, nodding in belief at her statement. She continued.

“Once I put two and two together I was already here in the house with your sisters fussing over me and consoling me…thank _god_ you weren’t here. It was _ugly,”_ Lila confessed, stopping to take a sip of her water to compose herself.

“Oh I highly doubt that,” Tom murmured seriously. He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of him, taking in Lila’s every movement, every breath.

“If it wasn’t for your mum and the girls I probably wouldn’t have made it through that first Christmas week,” Lila admitted. “It was bad enough when dad came to visit and he would cry every time he looked at me. I look a lot like mum.”

For a moment she stopped, looking at Diana with a petulant glance, then she shook her head as if steeling herself for something.

“I’ve followed your career since I saw _The Avengers_ in 2012. One minute I’m throwing bits of popcorn at my girlfriends Natalia and Meritt, and the next I’m looking at Loki,” she admitted, blushing prettily. “You were, erm, _are…_ electric. I tore through your acting CV shortly thereafter and have enjoyed all of your work to date.”

Lila stared at Tom, gauging his reaction. Normally, he could take compliments about his acting prowess quite easily. He _loved_ attention and _lived_ for praise, especially after being sandwiched between a firstborn and a youngest child. But coming from this woman’s lips, hearing her admit she appreciated his life’s work suddenly made him dizzy with pleasure and happiness. It was as if he craved it from her more than anyone else, and they’d only just met.

“Strangely enough,” Lila kept going, “mum died in her accident seven months after I first learned about you. I know this is going to sound awfully weird, Tom, but I actually used to listen to recordings of you reading and talking because you have a very soothing timbre to your voice.”

He didn’t know what to say. With wide eyes, he marveled at Lila’s admission. His crossed arms fell to his sides of their own accord.

“You stopped me crying on more than one occasion, so thank you for that,” Lila smiled absently, a far-away look on her face.

“I never knew that, young lady!” Diana burst forth, moving from her chair to hug the younger woman in her arms. She was misty-eyed from Lila’s intimate confession.

Tom watched as Lila wholeheartedly hugged his mum back, seeming to breathe in Diana’s motherly presence.

“It’s weird,” Lila mumbled, embarrassed, with eyes closed. When she pulled away from Di, Lila found Tom staring intently at her.

_“No,_ Lila,” he intoned. “ _It’s humbling_.”

 

 

Lila Roman considered herself to be somewhat well versed in all things Tom Hiddleston. Career-wise, anyway. And from what Di, Emma, and Sarah had divulged in the last handful of years, which mainly entailed his antics as a child and his never-ending love of performing.

She knew all the run-of-the-mill stuff that “fans” knew – he loved tennis, Shakespeare, and was educated quite prestigiously. Loquacious. Athletic. A clever mimic.

But sitting in his mother’s den after Sunday roast playing Scrabble with the two of them, Lila was beginning to observe new things about him. He was relaxed, in his own comfortable environment.

Number one: Tom was _fiercely_ protective of his family. In between the creation of words and the shuffling of tiles, Di brought her son up to speed on troubles she was having at work, and some less-than-polite reviews of one of Emma’s latest acting ventures. Lila could see a spark in Tom’s eyes, a visual representation of the anger he felt when one of his girls was threatened or disappointed. It warmed Lila’s heart, and for a moment – before she laughed away the notion – she wanted to be one of Tom’s girls too.

Number two: Tom actually seemed to relish peace and quiet. Lila always thought that with his ebullient personality, his devotion to running, and his breakneck habit of shooting three or four projects in a row, Tom didn’t like to have any downtime to just…relax. Sure, vacations were one thing, and she assumed he took them from time to time, but he didn’t seem like the sort of person who could appreciate staying in and being lazy. But lo and behold, he was still in those godforsaken pajamas, glasses perched devilishly on his patrician nose, hair still rumpled, and it was dark outside. A few times during their game, after he played a word, Tom would lean back contentedly against the throw pillows on the sofa and close his eyes. He looked utterly content to just _be._

Number three: Tom was afraid of dying before his time had truly come. Lila had Diana to thank for this third observation – she outright brought it up as they finished the game, Tom declaring himself the winner. (Of course he did. What good was a double first from Cambridge if you couldn’t beat your family and friends at Scrabble?)

“My son is rather competitive, if you hadn’t noticed,” Di winked at Lila. “Something about wanting to impress those who love him most, I think. He loves to prove people wrong. He’s also been terrified since he was a small lad of dying young, thus the ridiculous work ethic and near-unreachable expectations.”

“Mum!” Tom groaned, mirroring Lila’s earlier discomfort at being outed by Diana.

Lila immediately sought to ease Tom’s embarrassment, since he’d done the same for her earlier after she struggled to admit she was a rather invested fan. Moving closer to him on the sofa, she placed a tentative hand on Tom’s shoulder, patting him gently. “If I have to be embarrassed, so do you,” she stage-whispered comically at him. “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

Lila thought Tom would merely smile and thank her for the gesture of confidentiality, but he grabbed her into a warm, strong hug.

“Then we shall be embarrassed together, milady,” he announced in a loud _Monty Python_ -esque stage voice. Lila giggled against him, feeling herself relax into Tom’s firm hold. Her head dropped to his shoulder, perhaps a signal that she was feeling sleepy and comfortable after all the good food.

“I’m going to go warm up some mulled wine, darlings,” Diana declared, standing up from her wing-back chair and making her way back toward the kitchen. “Continue without me.”

“Continue to _what,_ mum? Be embarrassed? Sit here and snuggle? Play ridiculously fun games?” Tom asked light-heartedly, still holding on to Lila. She hadn’t tried to move away from him, he noticed happily. Without knowing it, he’d begun to stroke long fingers up and down her back.

“All three!” Di replied.

Feeling herself flushing at being pressed against Tom for so long, Lila pulled away gently, noticing that Tom reluctantly allowed her to leave his grasp. So as to distract from how her heart was in her throat, she playfully threw down a new challenge to him.

“Okay, you,” she pretend-growled, “since you think you can outsmart me at Scrabble, let’s try a little strategic competition.” She pointed at the unopened Othello box sitting on the coffee table in front of them. Tom took that moment to lean forward, invading Lila’s space, pushing his spectacles up his nose slowly as he grinned devilishly at her.

“You know I won’t play fair, don’t you?” His voice had dropped to a seductive, low register that made Lila tremble just a little bit. She loved that voice.

_That’s his Loki voice,_ she thought with pleasure.

“I would expect nothing less from the God of Mischief,” Lila purred sweetly, moving her mouth so her lips were mere centimeters from his ear. “I’m going to enjoy watching you lose.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when Tom growled, hauling her back against him so he could drop a quick kiss against Lila’s forehead.

“You’re even more beautiful when you’re wrong, little one,” he continued in the Norse god’s low octave. “I’m not a stranger to how this game is played. So for each move you make, I’m going to ask you a question you must answer. Understood?”

Lila smiled flirtatiously and agreed to Tom’s terms, picking up her white pieces and motioning for him to make his first move with the black disc shapes. She was determined not to let him win just by making her blush. When he’d made his choice, Lila placed a white circle onto the green felt grid, flipping over the appropriate pieces of black so they, too, were now white.

“Ah, the triumph of good over evil,” she teased, winking at a smirking Tom. He wasted no time.

“What’s your favorite character of mine?” he asked. He knew it was selfish and egotistical, but he truly wanted to know just how much Lila knew about his career, and how much she liked his work. And him. He pretended to be nonchalant about her impending answer, placing his next black piece on the board and flipping over two of her white discs.

“Henry Plantagenet,” Lila declared without hesitation. She would have said Loki, as many people often did, but she had a soft spot for such a regal, powerful leader who followed his men into battle and made it a point to form a brotherhood with them. She could see this answer surprised Tom, as he quirked an eyebrow at her and nodded his approval. Before she could stop herself, Lila continued her explanation.

“I also find you massively handsome with longer hair and a beard,” she murmured, smiling down at the floor.

Tom’s next question, after Lila took much advantage of his poorly played previous move – she turned over seven of his black circles – was a bit more difficult for her.

“What’s the film I’ve done that you like least?” he prodded politely. His voice had gone quiet for this question, and Lila could see he was fidgeting with his hands in his lap, pretending to be focused on the game but really looking for all the world like he was worried about disappointing someone.

_“Unrelated,”_ Lila responded after careful thought. “It’s not that you’re not excellent in the film,” she amended. “It’s just that you’re quite a cad to Anna’s character.”

Tom nodded, playing his next disc. “Then I guess you might feel the same about _Deep Blue Sea_?”

Lila smiled sadly, nodding as she took her turn, flipping more circles to their white sides. “Freddie has his own demons to contend with. While I don’t approve of his treatment of Hester, I don’t blame him for not wanting to indulge her dramatics. He’d just lived through a war, after all.”

Tom and his beautiful companion continued this back and forth for the duration of the game, flipping colored discs and responding to one another.

Lila’s favorite scene in _The Avengers_?

“Stuttgart.”

Did she consider _Crimson Peak_ to be disappointing?

“It’s pure gothic romance. I loved it. And I wanted Lucille’s gorgeous ruby ring.”

Had she seen _High Rise?_

“Read the novel. I’m bracing myself for a wild ride.”

Her thoughts on _Coriolanus?_

“I actually think you brought too much emotion to the role in certain parts. But I only saw it in the cinema so I couldn’t tell for sure. I never really loved that play anyway.”

Did she think he was too cloying with fans? Too much of a “dancing bear”?

“Part of the job, I suppose.”

Was it selfish of him to ask her all of these questions about, well, him?

“You’re an actor. The ego is a natural part of your work.”

Tom admired how graciously, how tactfully Lila answered that question. She was acknowledging the narcissism of his world, but wasn’t scolding him for it. Once again, her unassuming grace captivated him. He still had a list of questions for Lila churning in his head, wanting to know, deep down, everything she thought about him. But before he could get all the answers he wanted, he looked down to see the Othello board covered in circles, most of which were a vibrant white colour.

“I win,” Lila teased triumphantly as Tom stared, slack-jawed, into her brilliant green eyes.

He smiled in acceptance of his defeat, reaching out to brush his knuckles gently against Lila’s cheekbone. “Clever girl.”

Blushing a comely shade of pink, Lila laughed a little, turning to watch Di carrying a tray of hot, spiced wine in mugs, along with their freshly made cookies from earlier.

“Treats for my sweets,” she announced, carefully placing the goodies onto the coffee table, Tom having cleared a space for his mum.

While helping Diana arrange serviettes and mugs, Lila caught sight of the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was getting late, and she hadn’t yet called her father. A tug at her heart, the creeping of guilt, caused her to give the older woman an apologetic look.

“Di, I need to call dad. I really should go,” she began, but Tom’s warm hand on her back stopped her train of thought.

“You can always go into my room and call him,” he suggested. “We’ll give you plenty of privacy, won’t we mum?”

Diana nodded, taking a sip of her beverage and pointing a delicate, aged finger up the stairs. “No need for you to leave so soon, lovely girl. Take your time. Tom’s room is the first door on the left.”

Her tone brooked no disobedience; Diana wanted Lila to stay. And if his physical reaction was any indication, Tom did too.

 

 

The call lasted only a few minutes, as they normally did. Lila’s father was doing fine, just making some hot cocoa for a group of young carolers who’d stopped by to sing for him. He didn’t sound as sad as normal, and Lila said a silent prayer of thanks to the children who’d made her dad’s evening more bearable.

Where Mr. Roman was coping, though, Lila was suddenly having a hard time. When he signed off of their nightly call, he finished with his usual endearment toward his only child.

“You’re my Bright Star, Lila love.”

It may have been the bit of wine she’d imbibed a few moments ago. Or it may have been the loneliness of the impending holiday. Whatever the reason, hearing her father calling her his Bright Star caused a soft sob to escape from Lila’s mouth as she told her father she loved him and she would call tomorrow.

_His Bright Star._

She’d never been a Bright Star in anyone else’s universe; she sniffled as she sat at the edge of Tom’s unmade bed, willing herself to calm down. Unbidden, thoughts of work – thoughts of Matthew with Janelle – popped into her head. More thoughts, of being a disappointment, of being lonely, of being sad, invaded her mind and caused her chest to tighten.

Dropping her phone onto the bed, Lila put her face in her hands and forced herself to take deep breaths so she wouldn’t lose it. After a few moments of calming herself, she wiped her eyes and placed her small palms atop her knees. Her downward glance at the floor caused Lila to spot a small, square piece of paper sticking out underneath one of Tom’s pieces of luggage. It had loopy, erratic writing on it, a letter of some sort.

Curiosity outweighed Lila’s ambivalence about snooping. Glancing over at the closed bedroom door, Lila quickly knelt down and pulled the handwritten note out from its hiding place.

It was from Rodney Crowell, to Tom.

_I really shouldn’t be reading this,_ Lila scolded herself.

But how many times do people get to really know someone famous? She read the letter twice, quickly, her mouth opening slightly at the contents.

 

 

_Sir Lonesome A Lot,_

_Hope this letter finds you well – and hopefully resting – right before the holiday season. I just wanted to write to thank you again for your hard work on the film and for your dedication to making something worthy of Hank Senior. The movie might be getting gently eviscerated, but I think we both know that has nothing to do with you. Remind yourself of that from time to time, if you don’t mind._

_The recent press and all the gossip surrounding the making of the film have you down, if I know you as well as I think I do, and I just want to lend my support to you for the excellent job you did. Forget the PR commitments you had to make; you’re just doing your job. Remember what I told you: there’s no set timeline for things. When you’re ready, you’ll know. And at the end of the day, you don’t owe anyone anything but a great performance, and you always deliver on that note._

_I loved having you as a houseguest and you know I consider you to be my son. You’re a remarkable young man, and if you ever need anything, just call. I know you’re astute about things now – knowing not to reveal too much – but don’t close yourself off to everyone just yet._

_Like we talked about…she’s out there. Just hang in._

_Love and peace,_

_Rodney_

 

Lila swallowed thickly. Her stomach was in knots, knowing she’d just read something highly personal of Tom’s that wasn’t meant for anyone else’s eyes. But it revealed so much. She was used to reading between the lines of things, working as she did in publishing. And she was enough of a fan of Tom’s to see that Rodney was referring to some very specific details about Tom’s life.

The lackluster success of _I Saw The Light._

Tom taking himself to task, seemingly, for the film’s failure.

His whatever-it-had-been with Elizabeth Olsen.

Was Tom searching for something he couldn’t find? Was he really lonely? One of the most sought-after, attractive men currently in the business? It was hard to believe. But Lila had read somewhere that Rodney did indeed refer to Tom as “Sir Lonesome A Lot”…perhaps it was all true. The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Someone working tirelessly on project after project, trying to form lasting connections with people for a few months or weeks at a time. A handsome man with a bevy of women available to him for whatever he wanted – no matter how empty or fleeting the real connection might be. Tom being so ambitious and competitive that he couldn’t help but choose between success and relationships.

She could understand why he looked so content and at home with Diana. There were no pretenses, no expectations. He wasn’t searching for anything that wasn’t there. He simply received a mother’s unconditional love.

Shoving the letter back where she’d found it, Lila retrieved her phone and stood up, leaving Tom’s room just as she’d found it. As she made her way back downstairs, she realized she felt sadder than she did when she ended the phone call with her father.

 

 

“Liles,” Diana greeted her with the nickname Em usually called her, “everything all right?” The older woman took in Lila’s blotchy face and her shiny eyes.

Tom must have heard the mild alarm in his mum’s tone, because he turned from his position at the fireplace where he stoked a roaring blaze to gaze worriedly at Lila.

The young woman returned to her comfortable perch on the sofa, feeling the heat of the fire seep into her defeated bones. With a graceful swipe of her eyes, Lila nodded at both mother and son that she was okay.

“Sometimes I get a little choked up after I talk to dad,” she explained, definitely not wanting either of her companions to know what she’d just read in Tom’s room. “He has a sweet nickname for me that can, at times, break my heart.”

Sipping the still-warm wine in her mug, Lila rested her weary head against Diana’s plush furniture, watching Tom add one more log to the fire. Even in his pajamas, not showered, his hair still mussed, he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

His back to the houseguest, Tom asked Lila what her father called her.

A stray tear slipped down her cheek as she replied, “Bright Star,” and then, seeing recognition dawning in Tom’s eyes, she rushed to stop him. “And don’t you go reciting Keats to me.”

She thought she’d said it forcefully, but as soon as Tom stood from the grate, he walked purposefully over to her, eyes never leaving her face, and sat down beside her, gathering her in his arms without asking any sort of permission.

_“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--_

_Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night_

_And watching, with eternal lids apart,_

_Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,_

_The moving waters at their priestlike task_

_Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,_

_Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask_

_Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--_

_No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,_

_Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,_

_To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,_

_Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,_

_Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,_

_And so live ever--or else swoon to death.”_

Lila, mesmerised though she was by the melodious, loving voice intoning Keats’ sonnet, cried quietly into Tom’s shirt, a sad exhaustion suddenly overtaking her. She wept silently, clutching loosely at his strong arms, and found a small measure of comfort not only in his voice (as she’d earlier confessed to him) but also in the way he ran soothing hands along her back, up and down her arms, and through her auburn tresses.

Before Lila Roman knew it, she’d dropped off into a light sleep, cradled in Tom Hiddleston’s gentle embrace by the fire.

 

 

“Don’t wake her, Thomas.”

Lila stirred, hearing Di whispering softly to her son.

It was Lila’s mistake, sleep-addled though she was, to take a deep breath in through her nose and stretch slightly. Tom’s comforting scent and his muscled form registered in her brain, and a haze of pleasure filled her belly. She was awake enough to notice that Tom gave her very _little_ extra room when she stretched – he wasn’t anywhere close to letting her escape, it seemed.

“I think she’s awake, mum,” his velvety voice responded, as one large hand brushed the hair from Lila’s face. She blinked up at him, smiling shyly.

“Good evening, Lila.”

God, she wanted to kiss him. Pulling away from her captor, Lila looked fleetingly at Di. “How long have I been asleep?” she asked the older woman.

“Only about thirty minutes,” Diana answered. She was reading, comfortable in her little chair to Tom’s left.

“You’re welcome to nap some more, little one,” Tom murmured, his hands still touching Lila’s back in a protective gesture.

Blushing prettily, Lila shook her head politely.

“I should really get home, you two,” she exclaimed in a husky voice. She was still sleepy. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

When Diana saw Lila stand, she knew there would be no way to convince the young woman to stay any longer. And seeing as the working week began again tomorrow, Di knew that Lila would be extremely busy for the next few days. She hoped that Lila would be occupied enough at work that she could forget some of the hurt of the upcoming anniversary of Patricia Roman’s death.

Walking out of the living area with Lila, Diana placed a maternal hand around the young girl’s shoulders, squeezing lovingly. “I hope you have a good week at work, Lila darling,” she said as she hugged her tightly. “You know I love you and you’re welcome here anytime, right?”

Lila gave Diana a squeeze, tearing up for what felt like the fifth or sixth time that evening. “Thanks Di. Love you too. Maybe I’ll see you later this week?”

Instead of Diana answering, Lila heard Tom’s voice as he approached the two women in the foyer.

“Mum and I would like that very much, Lila. Can I walk you home?”

Lila noticed Tom had put on a coat and some shoes in preparation for his request to her.

_How can a girl say no to him?_

She nodded, smiling at Tom and Diana as she grabbed her bag and stepped into her flats. Diana helped Lila with her coat, asking Tom to grab Lila’s bowls from the kitchen before she left. When he was safely out of earshot, Diana whispered conspiratorially in Lila’s ear.

“He’s quite taken with you, my girl,” she explained, nodding her head in Tom’s general direction.

All Lila could do was blush and shake her head. The thought was a pleasant one, but she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“He’s a wonderful man, Di. You did a great job.”

Diana nodded in thanks, smiling almost bemusedly at Lila when Tom returned to the foyer cradling Lila’s bowls in one large palm. “Ready to go, Lila?” he smiled warmly at her.

With a last kiss on the cheek for Di, Lila stepped out into the bitter winter night, Tom’s arm offering support against the slick spots on the path between houses.

“Did you have a good evening, little one?” he asked her, moonlight exaggerating the handsome angles of his cheekbones and jaw line. Lila could hardly stand to look away from him.

“I did, Tom. Thank you for letting me sleep on you,” she whispered sheepishly, grinning up at the clear night sky. They made it to Lila’s doorstep in no time at all.

Fumbling with her keys and taking the mixing bowls from Tom’s hands, Lila was only half paying attention when Tom replied to her.

“I think you need some tender loving care, Lila.”

She was able to hide her shock at his rather forward statement – even though his tone remained respectable – and opened her door, placing the bowls and her bag down on the carpeted entryway. When she turned back to him with empty arms, he was staring at her as though he’d just realized something hugely important. It scared her a little, the intensity of it.

“I’m fine, Tom, really,” Lila brushed it off. “Your mum – and you – have been great. I only need to get through a few more days and then it’s a new year all over again.” She reached out to hug Tom in a friendly, platonic manner, but his mouth against her ear was anything but platonic. He almost sounded as though he were in pain.

“When can I see you again?” The words were whispered.

Leaning back to look into Tom’s face, she saw that he had a slight trace of worry in his eyes. She couldn’t figure him out if she tried.

“Well,” she thought for a moment, “I’ve got a full day of work tomorrow, but perhaps you can come over to mine tomorrow evening and we can make some more sweets. Would you like that?”

The trace of “little boy” returned to Tom in that moment and he nodded vehemently, mirth twinkling his eyes once more. “What can we make?” he asked. “What’s your favorite?”

Lila didn’t have to think too long about that question. Her all-time favorite biscuit was the Chocolate Crinkle, dusted with confectioner’s sugar and topped with marshmallow dollops and fudgy icing. “How about something gooey and full of chocolate?” she proposed, reaching up spontaneously to rub warm fingers against the shells of Tom’s reddened, cold ears. His eyes closed and a low murmur of happiness rumbled from his chest. Whether from her touch or the promise of more chocolate treats, Lila didn’t know.

“Yes, please.”

Tom reached up to his right ear to grasp at Lila’s little fingers, holding them in his hand.

Nodding happily, musing that she would have something else to look forward to tomorrow, Lila went about making the arrangements. “Your mum has my mobile number. Just text me tomorrow and we’ll solidify our plans, okay?”

“I look forward to it, Lila. And maybe I can eat a little dough, too?”

She laughed heartily at the hopeful look on his startlingly gorgeous face. “Of course you can. But you’re going to have to do an awful lot of helping first, mister,” Lila teased.

Putting on a serious face, Tom raised one hand in pledge and solemnly swore he would do all he could to be the perfect biscuit-baking helper. The laugh he earned from Lila at his silliness was one he wanted to hear as much as possible, he decided.

She made to go inside, bidding him good night once more, when Tom stopped Lila with a gentle hand clasped to her forearm. “I have one more request, Lila,” he breathed, stepping closer to her.

The unassuming beauty looked up at him, wondering why he was so serious about just making some sweet treats in the kitchen.

“May I kiss you?”

Lila wanted to act flirtatious and attractive in that moment, hardly believing her ears at Tom’s request. _Tom Hiddleston wanted to kiss her._ What ended up coming out of her mouth reaffirmed Tom’s suspicions that Lila didn’t think herself special, or loved, or anyone’s “Bright Star.”

“Why would you want to do that?” she squeaked softly, staring into his cobalt gaze and trembling slightly – and not due to the freezing temperature outside. Tom could barely get his answer out before he pressed his lips against Lila’s fuller ones, wrapping her up in his long arms.

“Because I like you, little one.”

Lila hadn’t been kissed in a few years, and although she’d experienced her fair share of physical affection, she’d never been mouth to mouth with someone who made her as weak and shaky in the knees as Tom did. He took his time with her, not minding they were both still outside and the night wasn’t getting any warmer.

The kiss started tentatively, as though he didn’t want to scare Lila away, and when he felt her relaxing against him, only then did Tom test the waters. Lightly pressing the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip, Tom sought physical permission to deepen the kiss.

Lila’s mouth opened almost immediately, her tiny pink tongue pressing against his own as she wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and shoulders. When he began to nip at her lower lip with his teeth playfully, Lila found her hands threading in Tom’s bedhead curls, tugging just as playfully until he growled at her and separated himself from the kiss.

_“God,_ Lila, I’m sorry…” he trailed off, rubbing his palms against his pajama bottoms as he looked at her apologetically. “I’m trying not to get carried away with you.”

She shouldn’t have followed the path of his hands because Lila immediately saw a rather pronounced bulge underneath the design of his sleep trousers. She felt warm…an ache seemed to emanate from her as soon as Tom stopped the kiss.

“It’s quite all right, Tom,” she whispered, feeling shy once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then?”

He cleared his throat, stepping down a bit from her doorstep, nodding in agreement. “Thank you for the kiss, Lila. You taste lovely.”

She could feel her face go hot at Tom’s compliment and tried her best to brush off the feeling with a little laugh, smiling at him all the while. “Perhaps I’ll be even better with some chocolate, then,” she countered. “Goodnight, Tom.”

He bade Lila goodnight once more as she stepped into her home and closed the front door.

Lila could swear, as she watched a retreating Tom through the frosted glass of the door, that she heard him groan painfully.

“ _Gorgeous little one._ ”


	4. Marshmallow Chocolate Crinkles (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila and Tom have their "date night" in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't stop writing this one...it's a bit long. And also steamy.  
> I think I'm stopping the story here, also. I like where it's at...
> 
> Enjoy ;)
> 
> And please let me know what you think. I adore everyone's comments and ideas. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday.
> 
> xoxo

Lila stared at the same storyboard ideas that a client had made specifically for her to peruse, for what felt like the fifteenth time in an hour. Try as she might, she couldn’t focus on the group of exploring veggies who were making their way through the unexplored terrain of the refrigerator.

Captain Cucumber held no interest for her.

Lieutenant Lettuce was cute, but his dialogue was a little stilted for a children’s book, and he didn’t have the right look about him. He looked _wilty._

_Perhaps he’s supposed to be that way because of the perilous journey back to the crisper?_

As much as she wanted to blame her inability to focus on the (somewhat boring) merry band of foods, Lila knew she was trying to while away the workday hours so she could go home and see Tom again. He would be in her house tonight, and they would be alone together.

No Diana to interrupt or encourage, either way.

Lila was excited, but also quite nervous, because she hadn’t heard from him yet. A small part of her figured that Tom was going to cancel on her and would wait until the last moment as a backhanded way of softening the blow. It wouldn’t surprise her if that was exactly what happened. While that insidious thought bloomed in her heart and mind, an obnoxious tapping sounded on Lila’s office door, and she looked up to see who needed her attention. Her heart sank even more.

It was Janelle.

The younger woman, dressed in yet another skimpy, low-cut dress, barged into Lila’s office without so much as a “hello”. She simply started talking at Lila as though she was Janelle’s personal assistant, even though Janelle worked in the financial division of Whimsy Publishing.

“I need your advice, Lila,” she tittered, smiling in her cloyingly sweet way and taking a seat across the desk from where Lila sat, storyboards spread across the flat surface in front of her. “Matthew and I are going to be spending Christmas Eve together and I want to get him something super special.”

Her lascivious grin made Lila’s stomach churn. Apparently one of Matt’s gifts would be Janelle _herself,_ in addition to something else.

“Since you and he are – _were_ – friends, I’d love it if you could give me some hints about things he likes.”

Lila couldn’t be rude, no matter how inferior Janelle unknowingly made her feel. And the younger girl was looking at Lila with such a pleading, hopeful expression on her face that Lila actually felt bad for her and wanted to help her.

_Of course, Liles, go right ahead and help the girl who swept a possible chance at happiness out from under you,_ she scolded herself silently. _Hasn’t she gotten to know him at all other than what his clothes look like on the floor?_

“Uhm,” Lila sputtered, trying to think of a few things quickly, off the top of her head, so that Janelle would just leave her alone to stew about Tom and whether or not he would text her. “He’s obviously a huge fan of books…maybe a trip to Waterstones? He also likes...Glenlivet…if I remember correctly.”

Janelle’s big doe eyes widened even more as she cracked another blinding smile at Lila. “Thank you so much, Lila. You’re a doll!”

She was out of Lila’s office, slamming her door excitedly, before Lila could get another word in.

_At least I’m helpful._

Returning to _Food Foragers: A Refrigerator Rescue_ , Lila decided to re-focus her energies on the strengths that the story proposal already contained, and set about making a bulleted list of the things she liked:

\- cute names for characters

\- the baby carrots have quite cheeky dialogue

\- using Corporal Celery as a makeshift slide during the climax is inventive

It was hard for Lila to come up with an extensive list, even though the mock-up showed grains of promise. When she begrudgingly began a second bulleted list of questions she had pertaining to the plot and to the mysteriousness of Emperor Eggplant (she wasn’t sure what his motivations were), her mobile chimed softly.

_**Hello, Bright Star.** _

Lila couldn’t contain the gasp that fled her mouth at seeing the message – she knew, instinctively, that it was from Tom. Who else would call her by her father’s nickname for her? Her dad certainly wasn’t fond of texting, and the sender’s number was unfamiliar to her. She struggled with her reply; what should she say? Was he still planning on seeing her for the evening? Maybe something came up and his plans changed? She didn’t want to face the prospect of an evening alone when she’d been so looking forward to Tom’s company – not to mention his handsome face. Still, Lila tried for a confidence she didn’t possess.

_**Is this my fellow treats-maker?** _

His reply was instantaneous.

_**Yes it is, little one. I’m your humble servant for the evening – how does a Chinese takeaway sound?** _

The tightness in her chest and the unease in her stomach loosened immediately.

_**Wonderful. I can be home in three hours. And I’ll have everything ready for our chocolate crinkles. :-)** _

The remaining messages from Tom were queries about Lila’s Chinese food preferences, and he also asked if he needed to bring anything to help with the sweets. She outlined her rice preferences, and politely begged him to bring her an extra portion of General Tso’s Chicken along with an additional eggroll. He couldn’t have been more accommodating, even making sure to double-check what sauces she liked, and asking her if she wanted any egg drop soup.

Tom’s last text to Lila spurred her onward in a flurry of productivity for the remainder of the afternoon.

_**Work hard, my little one…** _

 

 

Lila didn’t even bother to remove her vertiginous heels when she stepped into the entryway of the house. Throwing her coat and workbag onto the stairs for just a moment, she clacked as efficiently as possible into the kitchen, where she grabbed cutlery and the requisite china and glasses for her evening guest. She wanted everything to be ready when Tom arrived – nothing out of place, everything welcoming and pleasant. It was when she nearly twisted an ankle on the kitchen lino, beginning to cobble together the ingredients for the chocolate biscuits, that she decided she’d better take her shoes off and get settled, get situated.

Her line of sight lost several inches in height, but Lila was able to gather her chocolate crinkle ingredients with exacting efficiency: oil, baking chocolate, granulated sugar, vanilla, eggs, flour, baking powder, salt, and powdered sugar. A bag of unopened mini marshmallows rested patiently near her coffeemaker, and she moved it closer to the other ingredients, too. Scurrying around between the worktops in her kitchen, Lila set out her electric mixer, large bowls, various measuring tools, and her burn-resistant baking sheets.

As a child, just the thought of making sweet treats excited her. After her mum’s accident, though, baking reminded her too much of what she’d lost, and Lila had stopped altogether. She used to marvel, sadly, that something once so sweet had turned hideously sour.

And then Tom’s mother found her. Practically rescued her, with the help of two daughters that treated Lila as a sister. Diana Hiddleston helped Lila remember what was most important about baking: the love and care with which sweets were made.

It was no longer an act that reminded her of death, and the loss of a parent, but of new friendships and an extended family.

And now, of Tom.

Glancing at the clock on her microwave, Lila gave a little start when she realized she didn’t have much time. She needed to get upstairs and put her coat and bag away, throw her shoes in her wardrobe, and change into more comfortable clothes than the restrictive dress she wore for work.

_The comfortable clothes will be a tricky call,_ Lila mused as she left the kitchen and headed to the staircase, grabbing her coat and bag in the free hand not holding her shoes. She needed to wear something that could be easily washed if she got chocolate or flour on it. She also didn’t want to be too hot with all the oven work she and Tom would be doing. Lila smiled to herself when she realized that her approach to baking was quite haphazard and whirlwind at times. That explained the specks of dough and flour that often ended up on her face.

Reaching her bedroom, Lila’s final thought about her clothing choices for the evening was that, despite needing comfort and breathability, she wanted to look nice for Tom. She knew that she certainly couldn’t match up to the handfuls of gorgeous starlets he worked with on a near-daily basis, but she could still try. And while she had him here, far from the glamour of Hollywood – hell, even the United States as a whole – she hoped he would like what he saw. Both of them would be in a normal element, the comfort of home.

Shoes carefully stowed, her bag dropped at her bedside, and her coat placed on a hanger in the wardrobe, Lila rummaged quickly around for a flattering pair of jet-black yoga leggings and a slightly oversized white shirt with three-quarter sleeves. Glancing out of her picture window and seeing large, fluffy flakes of snow whirling gently from the sky, Lila decided that her favorite pair of fair isle black and white leg warmers would be the perfect thing to keep her legs extra warm.

_This pedicure is too good to waste,_ she thought, liking the scarlet sheen that still glistened on her toes. She would forego socks.

Throwing her cache of clothing onto her raspberry-coloured duvet, Lila walked over to the full-length mirror that stood near the entrance to her walk-in wardrobe. Reaching behind her, arms overhead, she grasped the gold zipper that ran the length of her dress in the back, giving the otherwise demure garment just the slightest bit of racy, sensual appeal. And with one, two, three tugs…

…Lila Roman realized her zipper was stuck.

And Tom Hiddleston chose that moment to ring her doorbell.

_Shit._

 

 

Tom was expecting beautiful, tiny Lila to open the door when he pressed the bell, a large bag of takeaway in his free hand. He took a moment to calm his breathing and looked up into the indigo sky, watching flakes of snow pouring vehemently from the heavens only to drift lazily to the ground. He couldn’t wait to be alone with the sweet girl in her warm kitchen, sharing another meal together and making delicious biscuits.

What he hadn’t counted on was for Bright Star – _his Bright Star_ , as he’d begun calling Lila in his head – to answer her door still clothed in a delicious apple-red dress.

He couldn’t help but take in her messy curls, her surprised and blushing face, and her legs. She was wearing sheer black stockings, her little toenails still painted that sexy, dark cherry colour he’d noticed the day before when she curled up against him on the sofa and promptly fell asleep.

“Hi, Tom,” she greeted, barely above a whisper.

He could tell she was nervous because her blush continued to deepen along the elegant curve of her neck, down to her creamy décolletage that was slightly on display. Putting down the bag of takeaway, Tom reached open arms toward Lila and beckoned her forward for a hug, smiling in happiness at seeing her three days in a row.

“Hello, Bright Star. You look lovely,” he murmured as she wrapped her arms around his middle. She was far too short to reach arms all the way to his neck, not if she wanted to be comfortable.

“I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a situation, Tom,” Lila whispered against his chest, feeling her face warm even more than it had when she first opened the door to see him standing there, coat collar turned up and glasses just slightly askew on his marvelously angled face. “I’m still in my work clothes…” she continued.

He pulled away suddenly, feeling a bit self-conscious himself.

“Am I underdressed, little one?” His tone intimated concern that he’d gotten his signals wrong about their evening.

Lila smiled a little, trying not to let her nervousness get the better of her as she pulled away and averted her eyes from Tom’s gaze. “No, it’s nothing like that, Tom. My… _my zipper is stuck_ ,” she confessed, trying not to giggle at the absurdity of her situation. “This is a rather good dress and I’m afraid if I keep tugging as I’ve done, I’ll snag the fabric quite badly.”

A luminous grin split Tom’s slight frown as he quickly picked up the Chinese and motioned for Lila to step back inside.

“Oh, Lila,” he smiled, relief in his voice, “let’s get you inside where it’s warm and we’ll see if we can encourage that stubborn zipper to let go.”

 

 

He wanted to be chivalrous, but as he followed Lila into the house, stepping out of his shoes and closing the door behind him, he caught sight of the delicate seams that bedecked the back of Lila’s stockings as she tiptoed upstairs. Her backward glance to see if Tom was following wasn’t at _all_ meant to be alluring or suggestive, but his body was rapidly responding to the sight before him. He felt a pull to her as painfully pleasurable as any he’d ever experienced before.

She didn’t even need to try.

Giggling softly, Lila saw that Tom was carrying the takeaway up the stairs with him. He seemed a little befuddled.

“Tom, you can just leave our food on the stairs, here, okay?” she encouraged, reaching the top of the landing. He looked down at his right hand, absently, and nodded in a sort of daze before realizing what Lila was asking him to do. Once the bag met the carpeted stairs, Tom took the remaining steps two at a time to catch up with his Bright Star, who had just entered her bedroom.

When he entered Lila’s room, Tom glanced around appreciatively at the creams and raspberries that decorated the walls and furniture. His eyes stopped for long seconds on the massive, ornate sleigh bed that dominated the central part of the bedroom, until he moved his gaze to the full-length mirror near Lila’s walk-in. His eyes caught her reflected gaze, as her back was turned fully to him, waiting for his help with the traitorous zipper.

She was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, looking for all the world like she was about to run away from him. Licking his suddenly-dry lips, Tom moved gingerly across the plush oriental rug that adorned the majority of the floor space, eyes never leaving Lila’s. He didn’t want to frighten her, or make her think his intentions were anything other than kind. But the image of her lavish bed would not be leaving his mind anytime soon, if he was perfectly honest.

“All right, little one,” he breathed as he stepped directly behind her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders. “Let’s see what we can do, here.”

She graced him with a shy smile in the mirror, moving tiny hands to the lush waves of hair that fell down her back. Fluidly gathering the tresses in her hands, she lifted her hair from the nape of her neck so that Tom could work freely without encumbrance.

He hated to admit that he’d taken not a few bits of clothing off of women in his lifetime, but this was a new scenario for him. This wouldn’t end as it did those other times – and he suddenly felt very protective of and reverent toward the kind beauty in front of him.

Finding a low voice to talk himself – and her – through what he was doing, Tom pulled the top part of the garment taut so that the zipper might more easily dislodge its teeth and traverse an easy path down Lila’s spine.

“Just give me a moment, Lila,” he wiggled the zipper a bit, being careful not to use too much force, “and we’ll see if we can – ah! _There,”_ he exclaimed happily as the zipper began a fluid descent down the back of the dress, bisecting the fabric easily.

Lila dropped the curtain of hair from her palms so that it swished down her back, not turning around even after Tom had got the zipper halfway down. It was then that he realized it ran the entire length of the back of the dress. He tried for a bit of humor.

“Little one, how did you manage to get this fastened all the way up this morning?”

The tinkling laugh that met his ears quickened his pulse. “I’m not sure, Tom,” Lila answered, turning at the waist just a bit to face him. “But if you wouldn’t mind, can you just unzip the whole thing? I’m afraid I’ll get it caught again if I have to twist myself around…” she trailed off, turning back around.

_She seems to be matter-of-fact about this, so you should be too,_ he scolded himself as he returned to his duty. But it was a tall order, because each new bit of flesh that revealed itself as he unzipped was clothed in stunning black lingerie.

Lila was even wearing a suspender belt with her seamed stockings.

He discovered this enticing evidence once the zipper passed her tailbone. She seemed to sense that something had caught Tom’s attention, because she tensed when she noticed he’d stopped unzipping. “Everything okay back there?” she asked in a hesitant voice.

Tom had to clear his throat, electing to finish his task before answering Lila’s question. As the zipper unhooked from the material, the vibrant red dress gave way to creamy flesh ensconced within delicate black finery. Tom was reminded of the decadent chocolate pieces complimenting the buttery shortbread from two days ago.

“You are so sweet, little one,” he replied without thinking. It seemed Lila was a treat unto her own.

Her short little exhale of breath through her mouth announced the surprise she felt at Tom’s declaration, and she reached shaking hands up to the shoulders of her dress to hold it in place, turning once more to look at her dinner guest.

Tom was watching her with hooded lids, his pupils dilated near the width of his irises. His lips were slightly parted, and a flush coloured his own face and neck. His dominant words didn’t match the nervous timbre of his tone.

“Sweep your hair to the side, Bright Star,” he instructed, quickly placing his own large palms inside the fabric of the dress at Lila’s shoulders. Lila obeyed, turning back around to face the mirror, watching Tom’s enraptured countenance as he swept tender touches over her shoulder blades, hands meeting in the middle of her back to trail thumbs along the indents of her spine. By the time his long, thin fingers wrapped around her lace-clad hips, Lila was having trouble breathing. All she could do was hold her hair up with one hand, keeping the dress pressed to her chest with the other. Lila’s breath stopped when she felt Tom press a warm, soft kiss to the nape of her neck, whispering after he did so.

“You get comfortable, Lila, and I’ll go situate our meal.”

She’d never felt the loss of warmth – from someone’s hands and mouth – so acutely before.

 

 

Tom managed to calm himself down enough that, by the time Lila appeared in the kitchen dressed adorably in a casual shirt, yoga leggings, and what he thought might be leg warmers – _how could she keep getting cuter?_ – his erection was only at half-mast instead of threatening to burst through his trousers.

He’d made quick work of the Chinese and had set everything out on the table, making sure that Lila’s extra eggrolls and dipping sauces were near her plate. Tom wanted her to be able to relax, knowing she’d put in a full day of work and that he had an opportunity to take care of her.

“Sit down, little one,” Tom coaxed, pulling out a chair for Lila as she locked eyes on the delicious feast spread on the table before her. She padded over to where her sweet friend stood, giving him a soft peck on the cheek before sitting in the chair and allowing Tom to scoot it inward. Lila was delighted to find that, instead of sitting across the table from her, Tom elected to take the seat nearest her, to her left, and he began doling out generous portions of chicken, vegetables, and rice onto her plate.

Contentment filled her as she realized that being around Tom allowed the shroud of sadness to dissipate from around her shoulders, if only for a little while. She’d felt this way upon waking in his arms beside the fire, and when he rushed to help her after she’d cut and burned herself.

_Those_ were _kind of his fault,_ she smiled.

A companionable silence filled the kitchen as the two tucked into their takeaway, Lila suddenly laughing somewhat exasperatedly when she looked at the clock and at the chocolate crinkle ingredients on her worktop.

“I’m afraid I’ve just remembered that the dough for the biscuits needs to chill for…” she sighed a little when Tom raised an eyebrow, “three hours. It looks like we’re going to be baking well into the night, I think. I’m sorry I didn’t plan this better,” Lila shook her head as she gathered a piece of General Tso’s between her chopsticks.

Tom brought a reassuring hand atop Lila’s own, smiling patiently and finishing his bite of eggroll. Taking a sip of water, he shook his head as if to dismiss Lila’s fears about the situation.

“Bright Star, I have nowhere I _need_ to be, and nowhere I’d _rather_ be, all right?”

Lila nodded, grateful she hadn’t ruined their evening. She rewarded herself with a spoonful of egg drop soup.

“In fact,” Tom smiled at her mischievously, “I think you should call in sick to work tomorrow,” he suggested, piling more rice onto his plate. That boyish grin she so loved to see made another appearance on his face, and Lila couldn’t help but feel giddy at the prospect of a long evening with Tom, and no work the next morning.

Instead of outright agreeing with him, Lila simply stood from the table, leaving the kitchen momentarily to run upstairs and retrieve her mobile from her nightstand. She tapped out a quick email to her boss, citing stomach issues as the reason she wouldn’t be coming in the next day.

_Well it’s not a_ total _lie,_ Lila justified. Tom gave her myriad butterflies in her tummy just by virtue of his smile.

She returned to the kitchen to find him waiting expectantly for her, his plate clean and his lanky form reclined in his chair just a bit.

“I seem to have come down with something,” Lila teased, dropping back down into her seat to finish the last of her eggroll and soup. “Won’t be able to make it in tomorrow.”

Tom didn’t say anything, merely smiling at Lila’s newfound excitement and watching as she finished her dinner. His gaze was playful, almost daring, and Lila wasn’t sure if her momentary bravado had sent a signal to Tom that she approached her work in a cavalier attitude.

When she stood to take her dishes over to the sink, Tom placed a tentative hand on Lila’s wrist, causing her to pause. Her eyes followed Tom’s face as he stood, drawing himself up alongside her.

“I’m going to kiss you, Lila. Is that okay?” He took both of her hands in his, gingerly pulling her forward and into his arms. She could do nothing but nod as the warmth radiating from his tall frame seeped into the thin material of her shirt. Her hands found their way into the short curls at the base of Tom’s neck, and before she could get completely lost in his sparkling eyes, her mouth was enveloped by his.

Lila didn’t mean to make the noise, but the tiny, pleasured groan that bubbled its way up from her chest caused Tom’s hands to tighten reflexively where they rested – one at the small of her back, the other cupped around her nape, trapped within the silky confines of her hair. When she broke away just a fraction to catch her breath, pressing her forehead against Tom’s with eyes still closed, he took advantage of her opened mouth and gently dipped his tongue inside, tasting her more fully.

Lila made the noise again, still unexpectedly, but a bit louder.

“Mmm... _oh_!”

It was as though her body went into overdrive and her brain switched to autopilot. She eagerly accepted Tom’s openmouthed ministrations, her moist little tongue tangling fiercely with his once she accepted he wasn’t letting go of her, and that this kiss wasn’t going to remain chaste any longer. Her daring was rewarded with a deep, growling purr that emanated from Tom’s chest.

As though he was a man starved, Tom began to run strong hands over Lila’s shoulders and down her back until one arm settled possessively around her waist, clinching her flush against him. Pausing his ferocity to break the kiss and stare into Lila’s emerald gaze, Tom had to take a moment to catch his breath before his low whisper broke the trance between them.

“I want to touch you, little one.”

Lila wasn’t sure what exactly Tom wanted – or to what degree he wanted her to comply – but she knew that she was willing to let him have his way with her. He was still positioned respectfully against her, hands not yet touching places he’d need permission to caress and stimulate. She found her voice.

“Where would you like…?” her question came out as a throaty whisper. She pressed her ear against Tom’s chest, closing her eyes at the racing of his heartbeat and the sudden waves of arousal wracking her body. He wrapped loving arms even tighter around her, thrilled at the trusting gesture she showed him when she snuggled against him.

“Everywhere.”

Her eyes opened and Lila looked up at Tom from her comfortable position against his chest, and he could see just how dilated her pupils had become. She was trembling slightly, clutching him with a strength he didn’t know her tiny body possessed. When she offered no protest, merely giving a pleasured sigh and resuming her snuggly position, Tom traced a sensual touch down the column of Lila’s creamy neck, dusting a feather-light caress along the prominent bone of her clavicle.

Standing with his Bright Star in the middle of her kitchen, Tom marveled at the peacefulness she radiated when he trailed elegant fingertips down the creamy skin of her décolletage, skimming further along her clothed abdomen to reach the hem of her shirt. Attracted to the sweet warmth of her skin, Tom dipped his wandering hand underneath the fabric and brushed a teasing touch along the soft skin of her abdomen, tickling her just above the place where her yoga leggings sat on her hips. All the while, his other hand anchored Lila firmly to his person. He began imperceptibly rocking her side to side where they stood, and a sweet, low hum exhaled from her.

“I know that we’re supposed to be making treats, Lila,” Tom whispered with a note of mirth in his voice, “but all I can think about is your beautiful, creamy skin under these clothes.” He continued to trace the velvet skin of her tummy as he spoke, and Lila felt gooseflesh prickling her all over. “When I peeled that dress from you and you were revealed to me like a precious gift, I had to leave before I did something extremely impolite,” he confessed in a seductive tone. “Even now, I can see that pretty black bra through your shirt, tempting me…”

Lila hadn’t even thought to change her undergarments after she’d removed her work clothes upstairs; she was so focused on getting back downstairs for dinner with Tom that after her stockings and suspender belt were off, she threw on the clothes she’d set out and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Using both hands to turn her in his arms, Tom smiled lovingly at Lila once more, admiring the elegance of her neck and the luxurious waves of hair that spilled down her back as she leaned backward to look up at him. Brushing fingers through her hair, Tom brought Lila closer to him, bending his knees so he could bring his lips to the column of her throat. He placed a series of soft, worshipful kisses along the flawless skin there, stopping at her pulse point to lave his tongue against the sensitive flesh in a gesture of almost-ownership. He was rewarded with a soft, elongated moan.

“ _Please_ …touch me,” she gasped out, unconsciously pressing herself more firmly against him. “I can’t wait…”

Frustration warred with desperation in Lila’s pitch, and she rubbed herself against Tom, seeking out as much contact as she could find. He wanted to take pity on his sweet little Bright Star. He would’ve done anything for her at that moment.

“Oh, my Lila, I told you that you needed some tender loving care, didn’t I?” he spoke solemnly.

She shook her head yes frantically, hands moving up into his hair to grasp tightly, trying to fend off the shaking tremors surging through her body. “Forget the baking,” she whispered, shooting up on tiptoe to press her eager mouth against Tom’s; he growled in surprised pleasure at her action. Without another second of indecision between them, he hauled her up into his arms and moved them both backwards, to the table where they’d started.

He made quick work of the takeaway containers, pushing them to the farthest point of the table, and then more carefully moved Lila’s good china, cutlery, and drinkware – all while still holding her to him with one firm hand curled around her. Before she could figure out what he was doing, Lila felt Tom laying her down gently atop the cleared space of her kitchen table, minding her head and neck as he did so. She was tiny, and definitely not as tall as he, so she easily fit the length of the spacious piece of furniture.

Removing his eyes from Lila’s face just long enough to check that they wouldn’t be giving anyone outside a show – there was only one small window in the kitchen that sat over the sink, and they were both out of its direct sight – he took the next moment to stare down at the gorgeous creature prone beneath him. Her hair fanned around her sweet face, a plump lower lip caught between her teeth in agonizing anticipation. Lila had no idea what to do with her hands, but she instinctively reached up for Tom who hovered over her, still standing at the edge of the table and looking as though he didn’t know where to start. She could see in his eyes the silent war he was fighting between politesse and pure physical need.

Clutching at his shoulders, all Lila needed to do was nod, and the dam broke.

Tom lunged for her, bringing a knee up onto the table between her slightly spread legs so he could climb forward, touching the palms of his large hands to the front of her shirt. With a dark little humming sound, he efficiently pulled down the front of Lila’s top, exposing the thin, lacy material of her black bra. Her nipples stiffened at the touch of chill air that seeped through the barely-there fabric, and Tom noticed immediately. She could see the realization on his face, in his eyes – a dark shadow passed over his face and he immediately bent down, his mouth hovering just above one of her lingerie-clad breasts.

“Cold, my Bright Star?” he murmured.

Lila didn’t get to answer him because he was too quick. He mouthed her pebbled little peak through the lace of the bra, the warmth of his saliva soaking through and causing Lila to cry out at the contrast between cold air and his hot mouth. Her back arched of its own volition, bowing from the surface of the table as she pressed her flesh harder against Tom’s mouth, a tiny sob escaping her lips. Lila’s hands were pulling Tom to her and urging him away from one breast – in favor of the other – at the same time, her legs widening automatically at the delicious ache that had begun between them. She could only form the word _please_ over and over as Tom attended to her other breast, both of his warm hands now cupping her through the material of her bra.

Once he realized he needed to taste her flesh unimpeded, Tom none too gently yanked down the offending garment. Lila’s eyes widened, but she immediately reached down, trying to unbuckle Tom’s belt. She was so aroused and overwhelmed that her hands shook and she couldn’t find purchase.

“ _No_.”

His voice was soft, and completely non-threatening, but Tom’s tone told Lila in no uncertain circumstances that she needed to stop.

She did.

Her reward was the sharp raze of teeth against the stiff peaks of her breasts, alternating back and forth until she gave a little hiss under her breath. As soon as the noise escaped her, Tom’s head shot up, and he stared at her with an animalistic glare. His other knee joined its twin as he finished the climb atop Lila’s kitchen table, his eyes never leaving hers. When he’d situated himself fully between her still-clothed legs, Tom took a moment to breathe, his chest heaving, before lunging forward to mash his mouth against Lila’s swollen lips, his tongue licking at her in an attempt to get her to _open._

She bloomed underneath his kiss, her own mouth opening and tongue meeting his as he cupped her cheek with his hand, running a tender thumb along her face. Tom’s other hand grasped Lila firmly, his fingers curling around her hip to pull her forward. When Tom’s left knee pressed against the apex of Lila’s thighs, that earned him a sweet reward.

His name, moaned from her lips.

He was sad she’d broken the kiss but elated at the arousal in her voice. Tom couldn’t help it; he smiled in utter bliss at gorgeous Lila, so responsive to him and looking as though she was in need of something he very much wanted to give her. He leaned down to place a loving kiss on her forehead, gently skimming a free hand to the waistband of her yoga leggings.

“I’d like to touch you, Bright Star, and see if I’ve affected you as much as you affect me,” he looked down, slightly embarrassed at the erection straining in his trousers. His handsome grin nearly stopped Lila’s heart. She swallowed thickly, nodding her head vehemently with eyes still wide as she placed her own hand atop Tom’s fingers. She led him along, pressing his hand under the fabric and biting her lower lip once more when she felt his light touch snaking underneath the silk of her panties. Lila could feel how wet she was already, the material clinging to her sex.

Tom, however, hadn’t realized just what he’d wrought; when he gently slid long fingers past her little tuft of curls, he was immediately rewarded with copious slickness, a tribute to his power over her. His mouth went slack, jaw stiff with an illustration of painful arousal when he discovered Lila’s clit with the pads of his fingers, the button swollen and enlarged, slickly apparent between the lips of her pussy.

“ _Little one_ …” he groaned, trailing off as he observed the beautiful girl’s hips beginning to hitch – a testament to the light circles he'd started swirling around her soaked pearl. He moved his eyes back to Lila’s face, hoping to see pleasure and approval there. She was clinging to him with all the strength she had, eyes locked on his.

“Please,” Lila whispered, undulating wantonly against Tom’s fingers, _“faster.”_

He complied wordlessly, wanting to bring her off as quickly as possible – not because he wanted it to be over, but because he needed to see and hear Lila fall apart beneath him, _because_ of him. Her breaths stuttered, moans and cries spilling from her mouth as Tom worked her in tight, sweet circles, reaching down every so often, lightning fast, to gather more of her cream and slather it against her aching button. Lila’s spine was arching at a particularly severe angle and she’d begun to shake, her body focusing only on the impending release Tom was adamant about bringing her. She had enough awareness to thread her fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth against hers.

“Thank you,” she half-sobbed, feeling the first fluttering tug in her abdomen that signaled she was very close to coming.

Tom kissed her full on the lips, releasing her mouth with a loud SMACK as he retorted, “Don’t thank me yet, my little Lila…”

His tone had turned sinister, and Lila yelped as his hand moved away from her sex, ceasing the precious stimulation she so desperately needed. Lila’s goal, one-track as it was, had been stolen from her, and she sat up in confusion. She was about to protest, or maybe cover up in embarrassment and flee to her bedroom, when Tom ceremoniously yanked off her leggings, undergarments in tow, and maneuvered himself off the table to sink to his knees on the kitchen floor. The next thing Lila knew, she was being hauled forward to the edge of the table, her legs situated over Tom’s broad shoulders. The forceful pull to the table’s edge had Lila sitting up, her hands braced on the edge of the table.

Just as she tossed the hair from her face to look down, Tom pressed his face against her cunt, establishing a much more intimate attack on her clit. She couldn’t have looked away if she tried, her breath heaving in her chest as she gripped the table, knuckles white. Just as quickly as her impending orgasm had died, it was returning with a vengeance as Tom worked his mouth and tongue on her, setting a viciously pleasurable pace.

The time for propriety was over. Lila was in need.

Widening her legs, she removed one hand from the table and grasped the back of Tom’s head, working her hips in time with the lapping of his tongue against her.

“Tom…yes… _please_!”

At the sound of her voice, he snapped, flicking his tongue devilishly against her and digging the fingers of his left hand into the flesh of her hipbone. The tiny bite of pain, followed by Tom’s searing stare in Lila’s eyes as he feasted on her dripping sex, threw her into a climax that forced tears from her eyes and caused her voice to break.

She hadn’t come in a very, very long time. The orgasm coursing through her in that moment, contractions _so fucking good_ that the tears kept welling in her eyes, was the first she’d had in years. Tom relished the feeling of Lila pulsing at his mouth, her hands tangled in his hair and her body shuddering against him, legs tight around his shoulders. He licked her gently through a second peak, insisting to himself that she would let go when she wanted him to stop.

And her grip wasn’t loosening. She simply moaned, breathing through the intense pleasure and writhing against Tom, shaking as though frozen. The rosy flush on her body told him she was anything but cold.

He wanted to keep going. He wanted Lila to come in his mouth until she exhausted herself. This moment was the first item on a long list of things Tom wanted to do for Lila that existed under the term _tender loving care_.

Lila, for her part, knew that she couldn’t come a third time as the stimulation was becoming painful and the lip of the table was digging into the sensitive flesh of her bottom. As gently as she could, despite oncoming fatigue and still-shaking limbs, she managed to extricate herself from Tom, moving her legs from his shoulders and gently pulling him away from her throbbing sex with a gentle tug in his hair.

He _whimpered_ at the loss of contact. His Bright Star was so overwhelmed at the culmination of events, of being half naked…tired…sated and attended to…that she quietly placed her face in her hands, still perched at the table’s edge, and began to cry. _Genuinely_ cry.

Had Tom been years younger, he wouldn’t have known what to do. When he was first learning about women and what they liked – and didn’t – he wasn’t sensitive to body language and circumstances. He was a mindless seeker of pleasure (many people assumed he still was, working in the hedonistic industry of film). But he’d grown up. He’d learned to read people and follow his instincts. And he’d met a beautiful young woman that his family adored, who’d been through a seriously traumatic event. Who radiated love and kindness to others and who seemed to so _desperately_ need some for herself.

Standing to his full height in front of a still crying Lila, who was completely unaware of what her guest was doing, Tom stepped forward and gently peeled her hands away from her face, tilting her chin up so she looked into his eyes with a teary green glance. He smiled tenderly at his Bright Star, carefully lifting her arms over her head so he could divest her of her shirt and unhook her bra. When he’d tossed the clothing to the floor, he could see Lila’s face still streaked with tears, her lower lip trembling.

Picking her up easily in his arms, Tom stepped over Lila’s discarded clothes and coaxed her head onto his shoulder as he turned out the lights in the kitchen and began walking room to room, shutting down the main floor of her home for the evening. His heart squeezed in his chest at the feeling of Lila curled around him, legs wrapped weakly around his hips and arms looped around his neck, her tears dampening the material of his shirt.

“Let’s get you into bed, little one,” he cajoled softly, pressing a kiss to Lila’s temple as he began his ascent up the stairs to her bedroom. The house was quiet, and dark, and he didn’t want her to cry, or be alone.

_If she was to be alone, she needed to be alone with him,_ he decided with finality.

 

 

A strong ray of moonlight shone in Lila’s bedroom, casting a milky glow upon the large sleigh bed that still beckoned to Tom when he reached the doorframe. Taking long strides across the room, he knelt just low enough to deposit Lila on the side of the bed, helping her untangle her limbs from his body.

She seemed to come back to herself, though silent tears still wisped down her cheeks here and there, and she made to cover her breasts and cross her legs now that Tom was just… _there_ and looking her over for any other signs of distress.

“No, _no_ …my Bright Star. Look at me please,” Tom whispered, beginning to undress in front of her without a hint of shame.

Lila watched as he stepped out of his trousers and quickly tore the shirt off his back, keeping his eyes locked on her bleary ones when he shucked his boxers. Lila exhaled a little puff of air when she saw just how aroused Tom still was, now that he stood naked in front of her.

Her eyes darted back up to his boyishly sweet face, then back down to that _considerable_ length, then back up…and she felt an overwhelming tide of emotion beginning inside her again. Tom moved directly to Lila where she sat and lifted her up against him once more, feeling her groan at the heat of his flesh against hers – and the rigid arousal that pressed against her stomach. He pulled down the duvet of her bed, arranging the pillows in what he hoped was a comfortable shape, and lovingly placed her down on the soft sheets.

“We can make our treats in the morning, little one. For now, I think you need to rest and be held, Lila.”

Her heart rate slowed to a more relaxed pace. The way Tom moved, walking purposefully around the edge of the bed and folding himself beneath the duvet, the way he spoke in a gentle lull, soothed her. The idea that not only had Tom just made love to her with his mouth but also that he appeared to want to _stay_ with her helped to dry her eyes, and she curled up underneath the comforter, turning toward him.

He immediately pulled her to him, positioning Lila against his chest so he could run his fingers through her hair and wipe the last vestiges of moisture from her lashes. She marveled at his nudity, warm and smooth beside her – _in her bed_ – and ran a tentative hand down his chest and along the ridges of his abdomen.

Two days ago, being in this situation would have freaked Lila out. The fangirl inside would have lost her mind at _Tom Hiddleston_ forming a physical bond with her.

But she was getting to know Tom, Diana’s son, who was treating her with sweetness, and thoughtfulness, and who was helping to relieve some of the ache of the past few years.

“I’m very glad you’re staying with me,” she spoke in a little voice, a slight tremble audible in the sound. “The loneliness gets worse as more time passes.”

Tom placed a languorous kiss to the top of Lila’s head, curling his own body inward to hers, and he maneuvered her around so her tiny frame was enveloped by his tall one. He began to rub a warm palm up and down the length of Lila’s back, running from her neck to the ripe flesh just above her bum, and spoke calming words to her.

“My Bright Star, I have _no_ intention of leaving you.”

Lila let his words echo in the room, the feeling of his palm against her bare back relaxing her further. She no longer cried. For the first time in many, many months, she felt sated and okay.

Sheepishly, she added, “And thank you for the orgasms.”

Lila was thankful her back was to him because she wouldn’t have been able to say those words if she looked in Tom’s devastatingly beautiful face.

He nuzzled Lila’s ear, humming his happiness at her admission. “I’d like to do that again later, if you’ll let me,” he whispered, kissing the shell of her ear. “It’s time for sleep, my Lila love.”

She gave a little nod, wiggling against him a bit in a bid to get comfortable. He pulled the duvet up around her so she wouldn’t catch a chill, despite being wrapped up in his arms. Tom thought she would drop off quickly, facing away from him, pressed up against him though she was.

But it wasn’t to be.

She turned easily in his hold, wanting to be pressed bodily against him front to front, and found her rest nuzzled against his chest and the crook where Tom’s neck met his shoulder. Her lips remained pressed to his flesh even in sleep.

Tom’s last coherent thought was how small and wonderful she felt tucked away from the world in his arms, and he sighed in contentment at the feel of her smooth, supple skin against his own.


End file.
